The middle-aged man's eyes narrowed upon hearing the old man's words, an expression of disbelief surfacing on his face.
"Could it be that you've actually mastered that demonic art?" His voice carried a note of dread.
"The fact that you've figured it out is even better. If you surrender quietly now, I may still spare your lives. As for what happens otherwise — I trust I don't need to spell it out for you." The old man spoke as he extended one palm, and with a sharp hissing sound, a ball of fire as black as ink materialized, hovering just above his hand.
"Tian Du Corpse Fire! You've finally completed it." The middle-aged man's face had gone deathly pale, his voice dry and hoarse with shock.
Seeing this scene, Patriarch Ji Yin let out a cold laugh and turned to face Fairy Zi Ling and the others, speaking with undisputed arrogance:
"Listen well. I am in a generous mood today, and I may let you all go alive! As long as you pledge your allegiance to Ji Yin Island from now on, you can continue to live freely. But any orders I give must be carried out faithfully — otherwise, the price will be the total annihilation of your body and soul. All you need to do is surrender one-third of your Primordial Spirit onto these Soul-Constraint Tablets, and you'll be free to leave unharmed." With that, his other hand dipped into his robe and produced several pitch-black wooden tablets, his cold gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd.
Han Li and the other cultivators exchanged uneasy glances.
No one was foolish enough to step forward and accept a tablet, but neither did anyone dare refuse outright. Cowed by the reputation of their opponent, the entire clearing fell deathly silent.
As it stood, the Core Formation cultivators on Fairy Zi Ling's side, besides Han Li and Qu Hun, numbered only two — the surnamed Meng and an eagle-nosed cultivator that Zhuo Ruting had invited. Everyone else, including Fairy Zi Ling, Madam Fan, and the rest — some six or seven people — possessed only mid-to-late Foundation Establishment cultivation.
Meanwhile, Old Monster Redfire, who had been hiding within the dark clouds the entire time, had quietly released the three Hidden Fiend Sect cultivators he had been restraining, remaining completely silent within the black fog.
"It seems you've all chosen the path of total destruction. Very well, I'll grant you your wish!" Patriarch Ji Yin's expression turned icy, his voice dripping with menace.
The moment these words left his lips, the eagle-nosed cultivator standing behind Zhuo Ruting suddenly transformed into a streak of yellow light and rocketed skyward. Under Zhuo Ruting's furious gaze, he covered several dozen zhang in the blink of an eye before his cold snort drifted faintly back to them.
"Hmph! I, Feng, have no desire to oppose the old ancestor, nor do I care to be anyone's servant. I'll be taking my leave first."
In the span of those few brief words, the yellow streak had already shot forward another dozen zhang or more. What terrifying speed!
Patriarch Ji Yin's eyes flashed with killing intent. The hand cradling the black fireball gave a gentle toss in the direction of the fleeing light. The fireball left his palm, flickered several times, and then transformed into a slender black arc that vanished without a trace.
Everyone else was bewildered by what they'd witnessed, but Han Li's expression turned grim in an instant.
At the same moment, a shriek of agony erupted from the distant yellow light, which then erupted into an eerie black flame. The flames shrank rapidly and disappeared — and in the blink of an eye, nothing remained but a single, thoroughly dimmed flying knife treasure. Every other trace had been utterly erased.
Han Li drew in a sharp breath.
The speed of that black flame was simply absurd!
He told himself that from a greater distance, with his full concentration, he might have a slim chance of evading it. But if it were launched at him from within twenty or thirty zhang, there would be absolutely no dodging it.
And judging from the way that black flame had incinerated a person to ash in an instant, its power was beyond even the "Qing Yang Demon Fire" of the six great demonic sects — no ordinary treasure could hope to withstand it.
Having reached the grim conclusion that this man could take his life at any moment, Han Li's lips went dry and his heart hammered violently in his chest. It took tremendous effort to suppress the overwhelming urge to flee on the spot. He understood perfectly that any rash movement now would only hasten his death.
But handing over one-third of his Primordial Spirit? That was something Han Li absolutely refused to do. It was tantamount to placing his life in someone else's hands.
If the opponent destroyed the divine sense imprinted on a Soul-Constraint Tablet, the cultivator who had surrendered that portion of their Primordial Spirit would suffer dire consequences. At best, they would be reduced to a mindless vegetable, drifting through the rest of their days in a stupor. At worst, their mind would shatter and they would die on the spot.
Moreover, such a sinister technique for restricting another's Primordial Spirit could only be executed by a cultivator who had entered the Nascent Soul stage. Even Core Formation cultivators possessed no such ability.
Han Li struggled to steady his composure and cast his gaze toward the others, hoping someone might have a viable countermeasure.
Nearby, the Core Formation cultivator surnamed Meng — whose jovial demeanor had long since vanished without a trace — sensed Han Li's look and responded with only a bitter smile before turning his grim expression back toward Patriarch Ji Yin.
Fairy Zi Ling, standing at the front, still maintained a relatively composed gaze. But behind her back, her ten jade-white fingers were tightly interlocked, twisted and knotted together so hard that Han Li felt speechless upon noticing.
As for Madam Fan, Zhuo Ruting, and the other Mysterious Sound Sect cultivators, having witnessed the terrifying power of the black demon fire, they had gone completely bloodless. Though their expressions remained outwardly composed, the fear in their eyes could not be concealed.
Han Li licked his lips and shifted his gaze toward the Hidden Fiend Sect group.
The middle-aged man, having witnessed the power of Patriarch Ji Yin's black demon fire, showed a brief flicker of alarm before narrowing his eyes to slits.