Han Li's body shuddered as every last silver thread vanished into his flesh in a single flash, causing the surface of his skin to bulge and recede ceaselessly, as though eggs of varying sizes were writhing about just beneath it.
At the same time, Han Li felt a searing, boiling sensation spread through his flesh and blood, while every one of his Meridians itched unbearably — so intensely that he nearly wanted to claw a layer of skin off his entire body with his own ten fingers.
This soul-deep agony was something only Han Li could endure through sheer force of will, his spiritual sense having been honed to its absolute peak. Any other Deity Transformation cultivator forced to endure it would either lose control of the true essence within their body and suffer qi deviation, or simply leap to their feet screaming — there was no chance they could remain composed enough to continue cultivating.
Han Li sat cross-legged on the ground without moving a muscle, his face expressionless, as he bore the barrage of strange phenomena wracking his body.
Three or four hours later, as his flesh continued to grow increasingly translucent, the outlines of bones thick by a full ring beyond those of an ordinary person could faintly be seen within.
These bones not only shimmered with a pale silver spiritual glow, as though forged from pure silver, but also bore faint golden patterns on their surface. Though the patterns were extraordinarily faint — thin as thread, virtually impossible to make out without close inspection — they seemed to form a series of enigmatic golden runes, as if they had been imprinted on the bones since birth.
Were any powerful cultivator to glimpse these golden runes, they would cry out in shock: "Golden Seal Script!"
A technique capable of forming such Immortal-realm spirit script within the body — its profundity went without saying. It almost certainly originated from the true Immortal World above. Even Mahayana-stage existences would be sorely tempted.
This technique was precisely the Hundred Meridian Treasure Refinement Art that Han Li had formally resumed cultivating.
The art truly hailed from the Immortal World. If Han Li could master it completely, his physical body would rival that of a True Immortal — and might even surpass it by a measure.
But the difficulty of mastering this technique was every bit as formidable as one might imagine.
Han Li had only dared to take it up again after advancing to the late stage of Deity Transformation. How long it would take to cultivate to completion was anyone's guess — he might very well have already broken through to the Mahayana stage before this art reached its final form.
Given Han Li's actual age and his lifespan far exceeding anything imaginable, he was in no rush to master this technique. He could take his time, comprehending it bit by little bit.
The hours slipped quietly by.
Several hours later, Han Li opened his eyes. With a sudden, thunderous rumble that rolled through his entire skeleton, his body blazed with golden light and surged slightly larger.
He formed a single-handed seal, and the rumbling within his body vanished instantly. His swollen frame snapped back to its original size in the blink of an eye.
Han Li let out a long breath, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The true Hundred Meridian Treasure Refinement Art was truly excruciating to cultivate. Even with his current physical prowess, he could only endure it for a short while.
If he spent too many hours each day pushing through the pain, the result would likely be counterproductive — his Meridians would shatter.
After withdrawing from the art, he did not immediately dismiss the formation around him. Instead, he waved one hand toward the sky, and the golden, three-headed, six-armed Dharma idol dissipated.
With a calm expression, Han Li placed both hands on his knees, closed his eyes, and settled back into meditation.
But after only a brief moment, the golden glow across his body receded, replaced by a layer of seven-colored light that grew steadily brighter, gradually forming a halo of seven hues that enveloped him entirely.
At this point, a faint crystalline shimmer flowed across his face, and the pitch-black demonic eye between his brows flickered softly, as though it had come alive.
Having finished cultivating the Hundred Meridian Treasure Refinement Art, Han Li immediately began working on another mysterious technique from the Immortal World — the Spirit Refinement Art.
With his current late-stage Magical Power and physical body, he could finally cultivate this extraordinary art without reservation.
If he could master the second layer of the Spirit Refinement Art, multiplying his spiritual sense several times over, then even if this trip to the Demon Realm failed to yield the Spirit Cleansing Pool and the Spirit Purification Lotus, he would still retain a sliver of hope toward advancing to the Mahayana stage.
Han Li knew full well how critical this technique was. Since the great battle against the demon race at Heavenly South City, he had cultivated it diligently every single day without fail. But because he had been at it for too short a time, and the second layer was far more profound than the first, he had made only marginal progress.
It seemed that mastering the second layer of the Spirit Refinement Art in full would likewise require a very long time.
Han Li had anticipated as much long ago, so there was no trace of impatience in his heart. He simply settled into his trance and cultivated in silence.
Early the next morning, a streak of azure light shot up from the island, banked once in a wide arc, and then hurtled toward the distant horizon.
Two days later, Han Li had flown beyond this stretch of ocean and entered a mountain range of dark, ink-green peaks.
This range was remarkably damp and humid. Wisps of multicolored mist drifted up from the ground at irregular intervals, obscuring everything below three to four hundred zhang and rendering it hopelessly blurred.
Fearing that some rash demonic beast might suddenly burst from the mist and delay his journey, Han Li chose not to fly low or sweep the mountains below with his spiritual sense this time. Instead, he flew directly at a height of several thousand zhang, cutting through the wind at tremendous speed.
As for altitudes above ten thousand zhang — those skies were often claimed as territory by powerful demonic avians so formidable that even Han Li had no wish to provoke them. Without good reason, he would not venture into such heights.