Activating a True Treasure was far more difficult than a regular talisman treasure, which was precisely why Liu Jing had asked his fellow disciples to stand guard for him — he had no intention of meeting the same miserable end as that poor junior sister of his. Only after releasing a yellow circular magic tool to orbit around his body did he finally settle down cross-legged with an easy mind, feeding Magical Power into the Fire Bird True Treasure.
The crimson talisman in Liu Jing's palm began to glow with ever-intensifying red light. The firebird within the talisman danced with increasing vigor and delight, looking as though it could leap free at any moment. The instant that bird took form and flew out would mark the moment of successful activation.
Though Han Li was entangled with the Ice Demon on the ground, he understood that his fellow disciples were employing their own measures, and his heart immediately eased. His greatest fear had been that these companions would lose their nerve and simply flee, leaving him unable to obtain that item from the Black Fiend Cult Master on his own.
With no need to divide his attention, Han Li's focus returned entirely to the opponent before him. Using the Gauze Mist Footwork at the mid Foundation Establishment stage still placed a considerable strain on his body — he could not afford to let this high-speed battle drag on any longer. He had to go all-in on a single daring strike.
With that decision made, one hand swung the silver sword in a blur of constant movement, pressing the Ice Demon until it could barely breathe, while the other hand silently hooked something from his storage pouch with a finger and coiled it tightly around his ring finger.
Once that was done, killing intent flashed through his eyes. Both hands came together in a two-handed grip on the sword, forming a wide, sweeping stance. In a sudden burst of savage ferocity, he lunged forward with a devastating overhead slash. The speed and viciousness of this strike far surpassed every previous attack. The Ice Demon's heart lurched — it hastily shot backward while raising its crystalline ice claws in a cross to block.
A sharp clang rang out. The Ice Demon let out a cold snarl, using the force of the impact to fly backward even faster, the gap between it and Han Li visibly widening. But a faint trace of mockery surfaced on Han Li's face.
Just as a flicker of unease stirred in the Ice Demon's mind, Han Li released one hand from the sword and yanked it back hard.
The Ice Demon's backward momentum stalled inexplicably. Then, completely beyond its own control, it rocketed toward Han Li. By this point, Han Li had already re-gripped the sword with both hands, settling into a slashing stance, his face utterly devoid of emotion.
The Ice Demon's face drained of color at the sight. It struggled desperately, but it was already too late — in the blink of an eye, it arrived right in front of Han Li. Han Li's silver sword trembled ever so slightly in his hand, and countless dense streaks of silver light flashed past in an instant. The two figures brushed past each other, then both of their silhouettes emerged under the moonlight once more. Only now, Han Li stood with sword in hand, while the Ice Demon came crashing heavily to the ground.
This scene was observed clearly by Song Meng and the others hovering in the air, and they couldn't help but grow intensely nervous.
The Ice Demon swayed to its feet, staring at Han Li's back. A vicious grin twisted across its face, and it was just about to say something when its expression suddenly froze.
A string of crisp, shattering sounds rang out. The Ice Demon's translucent, ice-like body was covered in countless fine cracks, and in the blink of an eye the cracks spread and lengthened until the entire figure burst apart with a cascade of crystalline ice shards scattering across the ground.
Among the glistening fragments, a single intact claw jutted out halfway, its razor-sharp tip still radiating waves of biting cold. Only this piece had withstood Han Li's rapid slashes completely unscathed.
Han Li cast a cold glance at the pulverized remains of the Ice Demon, then raised his head to look at the three blood-colored cocoons burning even more brilliantly. He furrowed his brows slightly.
Without a word, he waved his hand and tugged, and a single ice claw flew straight toward him.
Only under the reflection of the moonlight could one faintly make out that between Han Li and the claw, a thin transparent thread held them tightly connected — and this was precisely the fatal cause of the Ice Demon's death.
During their clash, Han Li had secretly maneuvered the invisible thread on his ring finger, silently wrapping it around the demon's claw. The creature's ice-transformed body, though translucent and hardened, had sacrificed all sensitivity to touch in the process — and that was how Han Li had so easily seized the opening and ended its life.
Han Li lowered his head for a closer look at the ice claw, hesitated for a moment, then casually tossed it aside.
Although he knew perfectly well that the ice claw had withstood a silver sword forged from "Silver Essence" without breaking and was undoubtedly an exceptional material for crafting treasures, the thought that it had once been a human hand made his skin crawl. He simply could not overcome his unease and chose not to keep it.
He strode over to the Ice Demon's remains and scratched through the frozen debris with his silver sword, hooking out a storage pouch with a flick of the blade. After a brief glance, he tucked it away carefully. Without a word, he shot up into the sky — he wanted to see what tricks his fellow disciples were pulling, since those three Blood Servants were on the verge of transforming.
Little did Han Li know that at the very moment the Ice Demon met its end, in a hidden chamber beneath a decorative rockery, a pale, fair-skinned middle-aged man who had been sitting with his eyes shut suddenly opened them to reveal blood-red irises. He murmured to himself: "So the Ice Demon is dead? Fine. That saves me the trouble later."
Having spoken, he calmly closed his eyes once more, as though nothing had happened.
Before him lay a skeletal figure — nothing but skin draped over bones. From its emaciated, gaunt appearance, it seemed as though every drop of flesh and blood had been drained from it, leaving nothing but a withered husk. Judging by the clothing it still wore, it was none other than a cultivator of Yellow Maple Valley.
……