Even though Han Li cultivated the path of immortality, he didn't believe a word about fate or destiny.
For him, cultivating to become immortal was merely a means to pursue eternal life. If an actual immortal appeared before him, he would certainly show deep respect — but bowing in total obedience? He could never truly bring himself to do that.
The Fairy Zi Ling and Ge Li were both momentarily stunned by Han Li's blunt words, a hint of awkwardness crossing their faces.
In truth, Han Li wasn't the only one who thought this way. Most cultivators regarded the legend of "Wailing Souls" as nothing more than a myth. It was just that, under normal circumstances, nobody was quite as blunt about it as Han Li had been.
After all, when it came to matters of heavenly fate and the Heavenly Dao, people still treaded carefully.
By now, the black-robed figure had already led the "Wailing Souls" deep into the ghost fog, completely disappearing from sight.
Han Li gazed at the fog, then grinned slightly at the corners of his mouth.
"Let's move out. Since someone's willing to clear the path for us first, it'd be rude to refuse."
"What does Fellow Daoist Han mean?" the old man surnamed Ge asked, feigning confusion.
Of course, the old man understood perfectly well. If Han Li had refused to join forces, he would have done the very same thing himself. It was just that moments ago he had dismissed the black-robed figure with disdain, and now he had to rely on the other's lead to push through this ghost fog. With Han Li and the Fairy watching, he couldn't quite bring himself to swallow his pride.
So he pretended not to understand and let Han Li say it first.
Hearing this, Han Li shot the old man a half-amused glance but said nothing. Instead, he took the lead and headed in the direction the black-robed figure had vanished.
Fairy Zi Ling followed without the slightest hesitation.
Ge Li blinked, then flushed red and hurried after them.
The grayish-white ghost fog, upon sensing living beings approaching, began to churn as if it were alive, roiling and surging toward the three of them.
If an ordinary mortal were caught in these gray-white mists, their vital essence would be drained immediately, turning them into desiccated corpses. Their souls would become part of the fog, trapped on the ghostly path forever, unable to escape.
But Han Li and his companions were cultivators. They had nothing to fear from mere ghost fog.
The three of them shimmered with light, each deploying their own means of protection.
Ge Li raised a hand and released a pale red umbrella that slowly rotated about a zhang above his head. A pillar of crimson light enveloped the old man, and the moment the ghost fog touched the red glow, it hissed and sizzled. Wisps of eerie green smoke rose from the contact, accompanied by faint, wailing sounds like the cries of ghosts and howls of wolves.
The rest of the fog, seeing this, dared not approach the red light any closer. Instead, it clawed and gnashed from beyond, as though it possessed some semblance of intelligence.
Fairy Zi Ling released four fist-sized spherical artifacts that orbited around her body, forming a movable barrier roughly a zhang in diameter. The barrier was pristine white and crystalline, shaped like a square, and it repelled all the ghost fog, keeping it from getting anywhere near her.
But the most peculiar defensive display came from Han Li himself.
Aside from a faint layer of pale green luminescence around his body, he hadn't deployed any artifacts or treasures at all. Yet whenever the ghost fog crept near him, streaks of inexplicable lightning would lash out and dissolve it into nothingness.
This strange spectacle naturally caught both Ge Li and Fairy Zi Ling off guard. But they were tactful enough not to ask about it directly.
In her confusion, Fairy Zi Ling vaguely thought of the Heavenly Thunder Bamboo, though she wasn't entirely sure.
Han Li walked at the very front as though none of this concerned him.
It wasn't that he was trying to play the hero. In a place where ghostly energy permeated every direction, being at the front or the rear didn't make much of a difference. He might as well take the lead and keep better watch for any dangers.
As for those streaks of lightning, they were nothing more than a portion of the sword qi from his Green Bamboo Bee Cloud Swords, spread across his protective shield.
Only the Emerald Bamboo Sword Art's protective sword shield technique allowed him to channel a fraction of his flying swords' power without releasing the treasures themselves.
This was a casting method Han Li had only recently figured out.
And given the Evil-Banishing properties of the Golden Thunder Bamboo, dealing with this ghost fog was child's play.
Of course, Han Li hadn't unleashed the full power of the Golden Thunder Bamboo. The lightning appeared only as a pale white, so there was no risk of anyone recognizing what it truly was.
But his spiritual sense — far more powerful than that of any ordinary cultivator — had been fully extended the moment he stepped into the ghost fog. He stood ready to detect any vengeful spirits or stealthy attacks before they could catch him off guard.