Just as the great battle outside the Minor Extreme Palace commenced, within the hurricane amid the rubble of the Xuan Jade Cave, Han Li sat inside a purple lotus half a zhang in size. With both hands forming seals, he spat a remarkably fine wisp of purple flame toward the massive sphere of light before him.
The sphere not only received Han Li's Purple Extreme Fire, but also absorbed three additional streams of extreme cold flame—black, white, yellow, and green—shot toward it by the others. These came from the old woman and the rest, each seated upon their own lotus, spewing forth their own frigid flames.
Yet at this moment, all five of them, Han Li included, appeared mentally drained, their complexions somewhat pale.
On the surface of the sphere at the center of the formation, multicolored flames swirled ceaselessly, and within, the faint silhouette of a person could be seen sitting cross-legged.
This person stood nearly a zhang tall, with an exceptionally robust build—clearly not the Lord Hanli they had known. Looking more closely at his face, however, he appeared to be a cultivator of roughly thirty years of age, yet his features bore a striking resemblance to the original Lord Hanli, as though the man had regressed several decades in age, suddenly restored to his prime.
It was an exceedingly eerie sight.
The burly man's bare, muscular upper body was on full display. At his shoulders, chest, the back of his neck, and his abdomen—all vital areas—short blades of brilliant silver light were embedded, driven in about halfway, yet not a single drop of blood leaked from the wounds.
But what drew the most attention was not the blades. The man's eyes were shut, and several small glowing insects, each only a few inches long and of various colors, had made his body their nest, burrowing in and out through his skin ceaselessly.
Each time one of these tiny creatures burrowed in, the man's body shuddered, his face contorting in agony, as though he were enduring some tremendous torment.
But if one looked more closely, one would be startled to discover that these so-called insects were actually condensed and manifested from various extreme cold flames. And with each cycle of burrowing in and out, each insect shrank noticeably in size.
When they shrank to a certain size, the insects would burst with a soft "pop," dissipating into nothing. Immediately, a wisp of flame of the same color would fly back from the outer sphere, coalesce into a new insect nearby, and burrow into the man's body once more.
This cycle repeated endlessly.
At this moment, if a cultivator could peer inside the man's body, they would be astonished to find that within his Dantian sat a Nascent Soul just three inches tall, bearing the man's likeness. With hands forming seals, the Nascent Soul was enveloped in layers of blue ice flames. Yet the insects burrowing in from outside paid these blue flames no mind whatsoever, parting them directly to enter through the Nascent Soul's slightly open nostrils, then exiting through its mouth moments later before burrowing back out of the man's physical body.
The Nascent Soul's expression was blank, but the blue flames surrounding it flickered erratically between dim and bright, lending an air of profound mystery.
After an indeterminate amount of time, the burly man's body gave a violent shudder, and his eyes snapped open.
Han Li and the others, who had been spewing their extreme cold flames, seemed to have received some signal. Almost simultaneously, they changed their hand seals, and the multicolored cold flames that had been swirling around the sphere shot back toward them in reverse. The luminous lotuses beneath them dissipated and vanished at the same time. They then took recovery pills, pulled out spirit stones, and sat with eyes closed to meditate and restore themselves.
They had repeated this routine over a dozen times in the past few days. Each session nearly drained the majority of the Magical Power within their bodies. Fortunately, all of them were wealthy enough to afford it, and with the aid of various spirit pills and spirit stones, they could recover fully within half a day's time.
Seeing that Han Li and the others had withdrawn their cold flames, the burly man within the sphere closed his eyes once more, as though entering meditation again.
Time trickled past. Then the old woman suddenly opened her eyes, regarded the burly man within the sphere, and let out a deep sigh.
"I truly admire you, Fellow Daoist Hanli. To endure the pain of the Five-Flame Marrow Cleansing—even though the potency of the cold flames was deliberately suppressed, the experience is still something between life and death. It seems you must have cultivated some special body-tempering technique, Brother Hanli. Otherwise, your body would have collapsed long ago. Raw spiritual sense alone would not be enough to endure this."
"Madam Long is indeed well-informed! Senior Brother Hanli did indeed cultivate a secret body-tempering technique in his early years, making his physique far more resilient than that of an ordinary cultivator." The green-robed middle-aged man opened his eyes as well and offered a faint smile.
"No wonder, then. However, we have already used the cold flames to cleanse Senior Brother Hanli's marrow several times, drawing out all of his latent potential. I estimate that Lord Hanli's body and Nascent Soul have both reached their limits now. What remains is the final breakthrough. Whether it succeeds or not will be decided within the next day or two." The gray-robed monk spoke as well, his expression solemn.
"However, the Xuan Jade cold energy within the formation appears somewhat insufficient. We'll need to temporarily halt the formation and replenish it from outside," Han Li said matter-of-factly from the side.
"Oh! I didn't expect Fellow Daoist Han Li to understand this secret technique so thoroughly—you even noticed that. Indeed, before the breakthrough, the surrounding Xuan Jade cold energy must be gathered anew." Lord Hanli's voice, now brimming with vigor, drifted from within the sphere, tinged with surprise.
Han Li's heart stirred. He turned his head to look.
Lord Hanli had risen to his feet at some unknown point, his figure slowly ascending from within the milky-white cold light. The five short blades that had been embedded in his body had vanished without a trace, and where they had been, not a single wound remained. Against his face—youthful, in the prime of life—his faint smile carried a distinctly eerie quality.
"Nothing of the sort. I was merely making a casual guess," Han Li laughed it off, deflecting with a vague response.
"Oh? Since Fellow Daoist Han Li has observed this far, I wonder—what chance do you think I have of breaking through this bottleneck this time? Let's see if your estimate differs from my own." Lord Hanli casually pulled a blue robe from his storage pouch, draped it over his shoulders, and continued in a probing tone directed at Han Li.
"You jest, Fellow Daoist. This secret technique is your own creation. How could my prediction possibly be more accurate than yours?" Han Li's expression remained unchanged, but his reply was deliberately nonchalant.
Lord Hanli laughed heartily and asked no more. Hovering in midair, he flicked his fingers rapidly, and several streaks of spiritual light flashed and vanished without a trace into the surrounding barrier.