"This disciple discovered an extremely well-hidden Dark Jade mine during travels in the West Sichuan region of the Thunder Continent. It was within its core that I inadvertently found such a large quantity of Haoyin Yin Stones," Bai Guo'er replied respectfully.
"I see. But had you not cultivated the Frost Soul art to such a level, you likely would not have been able to sense their presence. You have rendered great service this time. You may withdraw for now. I will see to it that you are handsomely rewarded later." Han Li nodded, his expression mild as he gave the order.
"Yes. This disciple takes her leave." Bai Guo'er bowed obediently once more before retreating from the great hall.
After her graceful figure disappeared through the palace doors, a contemplative look crossed Han Li's face.
The Haoyin Cold Soul Mountain, one of the Five Extreme Mountains of Yuan He, could finally be forged.
That left only the materials for the final mountain, the Polar Origin Mountain, still to be found. On this point, however, he was not overly concerned.
Back in the Mortal Realm, within the Valley of the Fallen Devils, he had encountered an astonishing quantity of Polar Origin Light. It should be easy enough to find the Polar Origin Crystals he needed there.
However, given his current cultivation level, his true body could not possibly descend to the lower realm. Otherwise, the sheer terrifying force of the realms would be more than he could bear. The only way was to use a special Star Disc capable of piercing the realms, and even then, at considerable cost, to allow a sliver of his soul to break through and return to the Mortal Realm.
That special soul fragment he had been nurturing within the Spirit Soul Lamp all this time would finally prove its great use this time.
The moment Han Li thought of returning to the Mortal Realm, names like the Seven Mysteries Sect, Yellow Maple Valley, and the Cloudfall Sect surged to mind. At the same time, images of his parents, his younger sister, Li Feiyu, Grandmaster Artifice, and others flashed through his thoughts. For a time, he was completely lost in reminiscence.
...
Several months later, a heaven-shaking, earth-shattering boom erupted from the secret chamber within the Qingyuan Palace. Within the chamber, centered around a massive crimson cauldron, a small, snow-white and crystalline mountain materialized amidst countless swirling silver flames.
As soon as it emerged from the furnace, the mountain began to swell with the wind. White runic patterns flickered in and out of existence across its surface, and a wave of pale, frigid qi swept outward from it.
"The Haoyin Cold Soul Mountain is finally forged. Now, only that single Polar Origin Mountain remains." Seated cross-legged in a corner of the secret chamber, Han Li narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the crystalline mountain before him.
...
One year later, on a hidden path at the border between the Da Jin territory and the Barbarian tribes in the Mortal Realm, several fierce-looking men were gathered around a fire, roasting some unknown small beast and talking loudly.
Though their clothes were tattered, each had weapons like short swords and long spears beside them, faint traces of blood visible on their blades.
In a corner near the fire, another man lay sprawled on the ground. He was slender, appearing only twenty-one or twenty-two, with an extremely pale face, eyes tightly shut. He wore a blue Confucian robe and was bound firmly with hemp rope. A wooden stick, sharpened at both ends, was clamped tightly across his mouth, from which black blood continuously seeped out. He looked on the verge of death, breathing only the faintest shallow gasps.
The burly men paid him no mind, eating their meat and conversing boisterously.
After some time passed, a disheveled-haired man suddenly spoke to the others:
"That poor wretch should have stopped breathing by now. Someone go check. Heh heh, a scrawny scholar who couldn't even bind a chicken dared to meddle in our affairs. Truly tired of living."
"I'll go take a look. He hasn't moved a muscle for a good while; he's probably done for. If he's not dead, I'll finish him with a blade and send him on his way myself," said the thinnest of the men, glancing sideways at the bound figure, his face full of murderous intent.
"Suit yourself, but make it quick. We need to move out of this area tomorrow and find somewhere else to enjoy ourselves. Times are chaotic lately; even we're having a hard time getting by," the disheveled-haired man said noncommittally.
The thin man let out a sinister grin, snatched up a single-edged saber beside him, and actually stumbled unsteadily toward the man in the blue robe.
He raised a foot.
Thud!
The blue-robed man was kicked, flipped over, and sent flying several feet. He landed face up, still motionless, though the black blood at the corner of his mouth had somewhat congealed.
Though the thin man looked unassuming, his strength was considerable.
"Dead for sure. Pity for you, your luck held out, or you would've tasted my blade too," the thin man spat, then turning with the saber in hand, prepared to go back and sit by the fire.
Just then, a gust of grey, eerie wind suddenly swept in from the distance. Amidst the wildly flickering flames, a low, strange laugh echoed:
"Excellent! To think I'd encounter such fine prey even in this desolate wilderness. Once I devour the yin souls of you lot, my treasure can finally be tempered to completion!"
"It's him! That demonic cultivator causing such a stir nearby! Run, everyone!" The disheveled-haired man's face drained of color at the sound. He leapt to his feet, didn't even dare to grab his weapon, and fled desperately in a certain direction.
The others, seeing this, were similarly ashen-faced. They scattered in panic, scrambling away at full speed.
In the blink of an eye, only the blue-robed man remained near the fire, lying utterly still.