Chapter 437

Although Han Li cultivated the Dao of immortality, he did not believe a single word of fate or destiny. WM. com

To him, cultivating to become immortal was merely a means to pursue eternal life.

Even if a true immortal appeared before him, he would immediately feel profound awe—but he could never sincerely bow down or obey blindly.

After a momentary shock, Zi Ling Shi Xianzi and Ge Li showed faint embarrassment at Han Li's blunt words.

In truth, it wasn't just Han Li who thought this way; most cultivators regarded the "Ti Hun" as nothing more than a legend. It was just that none dared speak of it so directly as Han Li had.

After all, they still held reservations about topics of fate and the Dao.

At this moment, the black-robed man had already vanished deep within the ghost mist, completely out of sight.

Han Li glanced at the ghost mist, then smiled slightly.

"Let's go too! Since someone's willing to clear a path for us, we might as well accept the favor."

"What do you mean, Master Han?" the old man with the surname Ge asked, feigning confusion.

In truth, the old man understood Han Li's meaning perfectly—he would have done the same if Han Li had refused to join forces.

But just moments ago he had scorned the black-robed man; now he was about to ride on his coattails to enter this ghost mist. In front of Han Li and Zi Ling, he couldn't bring himself to admit it outright.

So he pretended ignorance, hoping Han Li would voice it first.

Hearing this, Han Li gave him a faint, knowing look and said nothing—instead, he walked ahead toward where the black-robed man had disappeared.

Zi Ling Shi Xianzi followed without hesitation.

Seeing this, Ge Li paused, then flushed slightly and hurried after them.

The gray-white ghost mist, upon sensing living beings approaching, surged like a living thing, churning and lunging toward the three.

If an ordinary mortal were entangled by this mist, their essence and blood would be instantly drained, turning them into withered corpses. Their souls would become part of the mist, forever trapped in the ghost path, unable to escape.

But Han Li and the others were cultivators—they had no fear of such mere ghost mist.

As light flashed across their bodies, each activated their own protective method.

Ge Li raised a hand and released a small, pale red umbrella that slowly rotated above his head, several feet high.

A crimson glow enveloped the old man; when the ghost mist touched the red light, it hissed, releasing thick, strange green smoke, accompanied by faint wails like ghosts crying and wolves howling.

The other mist recoiled, only clawing and snarling at the edge of the red glow, unwilling to advance further—as if it possessed intelligence.

Zi Ling Shi Xianzi released four fist-sized spherical artifacts that circled her, forming a ten-foot-wide mobile barrier.

This barrier was pure white and crystalline, square in shape, repelling all ghost mist and preventing it from approaching her even slightly.

But the most peculiar defense belonged to Han Li.

Aside from a faint, shimmering blue-green glow around his body, he used no artifact or magic treasure whatsoever—when the ghost mist neared him, it was instantly obliterated by unseen bolts of lightning, vanishing into nothing.

This strange sight naturally startled Ge Li and Zi Ling Shi Xianzi—but neither dared to ask outright.

Zi Ling Shi Xianzi, puzzled, vaguely thought of Golden Thunder Bamboo, though she wasn't certain.

Han Li walked ahead as if unaware.

It wasn't that he sought to be heroic; in this place choked with ghostly energy, walking ahead or behind made little difference.

Better to lead, so he could detect danger early.

As for the lightning, it was merely partial sword qi from his Green Bamboo Bee Cloud Sword scattered across his defensive shield.

Only the "Qing Yuan Sword Art"'s protective sword shield technique could directly harness part of the flying sword's power without releasing the artifact.

This was a method Han Li had only recently comprehended.

And given the Golden Thunder Bamboo's innate ability to repel evil, the ghost mist was no match.

Of course, Han Li had not unleashed the full power of the Golden Thunder Bamboo—so the lightning appeared only pale white, avoiding detection.

But his spiritual sense, far stronger than that of ordinary cultivators, had been fully extended since entering the mist, guarding against ambushes by disguised spirits.

After all, even cultivators' spiritual eyes could not see far through this thick mist.

Yet the black-robed man's trail was easy to follow—the mist had been cleared into a ten-foot-wide path, noticeably lighter than the surrounding fog, visible to the naked eye.

Han Li and the others simply needed to follow it.

Whether this was due to the black-robed man's technique or the supernatural nature of the "Ti Hun," Han Li didn't care—he refused to ponder it further.

The more powerful the "Ti Hun," the better it was for those following behind.

Now, with a blank expression, he observed his surroundings while walking slowly, one step higher, one lower.

The ground beneath his feet was uneven and damp, as if saturated with moisture.

They walked on like this for an unknown length of time, encountering nothing along the way.

Unconsciously, they had followed the black-robed man deep into the heart of the ghost mist.

And the mist's color gradually darkened from gray-white to black.

Yet Han Li's expression grew increasingly grim, his brows knitting tighter.

A sharp crack echoed—Han Li suddenly stopped and looked down.

Zi Ling Shi Xianzi and the old man, curious, gathered around.

Han Li narrowed his eyes slightly, then returned to normal, lifting his foot from the spot.

Beneath it lay a pile of white bones, wrapped in a garment shimmering with blue-green light—clearly not ordinary attire.

Nearby lay fragments of a broken sword, translucent and crystalline, as if still imbued with spiritual essence.

Clearly, this was the remains of an unfortunate cultivator trapped here.

Han Li's eyes flickered with unusual light, then he shook his head.

Given that this man had been dead for so long and his artifact fragments still retained spiritual essence, he must have been a cultivator of considerable cultivation base in life.

Yet here he died, his bones left unburied—how starkly different from his former glory, how tragic.

It showed that on the path of cultivation, one misstep could lead to irreversible ruin, an end even more pitiful than that of ordinary mortals.

This cultivator's soul must now be part of the ghost mist—or had become a fierce spirit, unlikely ever to re-enter the cycle of rebirth.

As Han Li pondered this, he glanced casually at the other two.

Zi Ling Shi Xianzi's face had turned slightly pale; seeing Han Li look at her, she forced a weak smile.

Ge Li's expression, however, was strange.

He stared intently at the blue-green garment for a long moment, then flicked his finger—a chicken-egg-sized flame landed on the fabric.

But before it touched the cloth, the flame vanished instantly.

"Cough! It really is him!" Ge Li murmured, raising his head, his face darkening.

"You know him, Master Ge?" Han Li asked, his voice calm, eyes fixed on the bones.

Zi Ling Shi Xianzi also looked on with curiosity.

"This man was someone I've met several times—Master Yu. He reached Core Formation long before me. The fire-repelling treasure robe he wore was forged from century-old ice silkworm silk; ordinary flames could not even touch him. A moderately famous artifact. When the Xu Tian Palace opened last time, I heard he went—but never returned. I never imagined he truly became trapped here, and didn't even pass the first trial. What a misfortune!" Ge Li sighed deeply.

"This man must be the True Person Yu, whom I've encountered several times before. He achieved Core Formation long before I did, and the fireproof treasure robe he wears is forged from century-old ice silkworm silk—ordinary flames cannot even approach his body. It's a moderately famous treasure. When the Xu Tian Palace last opened, I heard he went there too, but he vanished and never returned. I never imagined he would truly be trapped here, and not even pass the first trial. What a tragic fate!" Ge Li sighed deeply.

"How did Master Yu's cultivation base and artifact power compare to yours—were they significantly greater?" Han Li asked calmly.

Hearing this, Ge Li seemed to grasp Han Li's implication. He stroked his beard briefly, then affirmed:

"Master Yu's cultivation base was the same as mine—Foundation Establishment early stage. But back then, he was on the verge of breaking through to Core Formation mid-stage. His magic power was far superior to mine. Moreover, he possessed the exceedingly rare Ice Elemental Spirit Root, and cultivated Ice-elemental techniques I could never match. As for artifacts, I never saw him fight, so I can't judge—but he certainly wasn't inferior to me." As he spoke, his expression grew darker.

"Then there must be a powerful entity nearby. I already found it strange—even with the Ti Hun clearing the way, we've seen no wandering ghosts or spirits at all. The black-robed man couldn't possibly have cleared every demon and spirit in the area for us." Han Li's tone was equally grave.

"So there must be a formidable creature nearby. I've always found it strange—even with the Ti Hun Beast leading the way, why have we seen no wandering ghosts or lost souls at all, apart from these ghostly mists? That black-robed man couldn't possibly have cleared away all the demons and spirits in the area for us." Han Li said with equal solemnity.

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