Chapter 881

Under these circumstances, having such a powerful spirit insect under control would greatly ensure one's life.

With a flick of his spirit, the small banner in his hand swelled slightly; the golden Chijin insects circled once before diving into the banner's surface, vanishing instantly after a flash of black qi.

Without another word, Han Li tossed the small banner aside, and the black-green Nascent Soul infant grinned, opening its mouth to swallow the Yinluo Banner whole, which then transformed into a dark cloud, flickered once, and vanished into Han Li's crown.

Only then did Han Li take a deep breath, close his eyes, and begin contemplating the incantation to lift the seal—preparing for future uncertainties.

But suddenly his expression shifted, and he looked up.

Though his cultivation was sealed, Han Li's spiritual sense remained utterly undiminished. If his perception had not misled him, that mysterious Immortal had flown over their caravan again.

That was rather interesting.

This mysterious Immortal, clearly searching for him, had passed directly above their caravan nearly every two or three days for over a fortnight—yet each time he flew past in haste, never descending to inquire. This rendered Han Li's planned methods of concealing his identity entirely useless.

Though puzzled, Han Li was perfectly content with the man's behavior. He immediately closed his eyes.

At that moment, a loud cry echoed from outside the carriage.

"Stay alert! Two more days, and we'll reach the Sacred Hall's designated encampment. There, we can rest safely for two days."

"Sacred Hall encampment?" Han Li's mind stirred slightly at the words, but after a brief pause, he dismissed it and returned to meditating on the incantation.

Yet only half a day later, Han Li sensed another tribal caravan nearby—this one also small, but with about ten or so more people than the Yinglu tribe. Given their directions, the two caravans would collide within an hour. But since they appeared harmless, Han Li paid them no further attention.

Nearly an hour later, both tribute caravans simultaneously noticed each other.

Naturally, chaos erupted. But after brief communication between emissaries, the leader of the other caravan turned out to be an old acquaintance of Yinglu—a minor tribe called Red Wolf. Both leaders were overjoyed and immediately merged their caravans into one.

"Brother Yinglu, where is your tribe's Immortal? Is he inside the carriage?" The other leader, a burly man with a full beard, eyed Yinglu's carriages curiously.

"Isn't your tribe's Immortal inside too? I wonder how many Immortals the Red Wolf tribe brought along this time," Yinglu replied vaguely.

"How many? Naturally just one. I had to beg and pay dearly just to keep a free-roaming Immortal with us temporarily. Do you have two?" The big man glanced sideways at the elder and chuckled.

They had known each other for years, so they spoke freely.

"Two? Naturally just one. We barely convinced an Immortal to escort us." Yinglu sighed, then exchanged a glance with the big man; both let out a bitter laugh, feeling like kindred spirits in misfortune.

"Enough. At least having an Immortal in the caravan brings peace. We're only a day's journey from the encampment—no more trouble ahead. But the remaining half of the route passes through the territories of major tribes—I must be extra cautious. How about this: after we rest, we join forces with a few minor tribes and travel together? That would be far safer." The elder's eyes flickered as he proposed.

"Let me think on it. In the past, several small tribes combined for travel, only to suffer terribly because one carried an extremely valuable tribute." The big man hesitated, sounding uncertain.

"Brother Ba, you overthink it. Such incidents are rare as hen's teeth. What are the odds our minor tribe possesses a valuable tribute compared to being robbed outright on the road?" Yinglu shook his head dismissively.

"Fine. We'll discuss it later." The Ba clan's big man didn't outright refuse—he seemed intrigued.

Meanwhile, the common members of both caravans had mingled warmly, chatting easily.

Especially several young maidens from both caravans, now surrounded by young men from either side, their clear laughter ringing out frequently.

These women, chosen to join the tribute mission, were naturally the finest beauties of their respective tribes—no wonder the young men of both tribes were instantly excited.

Yinglu heard the laughter behind him, shook his head, and turned to reprimand his people before they offended the Immortal inside the carriage.

But at that moment, a strange bird cry echoed from high above—neither eagle nor vulture, yet crystal-clear to every ear below.

The elder's face turned pale instantly; he spun to look at the big man beside him, who wore an equally grim expression, eyes wide with alarm.

"Everyone, dismount and take cover! It's the demon bird Yuanjiao! Call the Cold Immortal out!" the elder cried in panic. Simultaneously, the big man shouted nearly identical orders to his own people.

"Hide behind the carriages! Quickly summon the Feng Immortal to deal with the demon bird!"

At the name "Yuanjiao," the entire caravan erupted into chaos. Everyone scrambled off their mounts; some timid souls tumbled off in fright. All crouched beneath horses or behind carriages, staring upward with ashen faces.

Above, three dark dots had appeared and rapidly expanded—within moments, three brown demon birds filled their vision.

Monkey heads, bird bodies, with two-zhang-long wings and a pair of furry monkey arms beneath. Their gaping, bloodied maws emitted chilling cries that sank every heart.

Though merely a Level-Two demon bird of the grasslands, the Yuanjiao was far smarter and more vicious than its peers—immensely strong, its claws capable of shattering stone and splitting metal, its eerie cries possessing potent mind-bending effects. Even low-level Foundation Establishment Immortals often struggled against it. Yet such demons rarely appeared on the grasslands—now three had surfaced at once! The caravan members were utterly terrified.

"What's the panic? Just a few Level-Two demon beasts?" A cold snort came from one of the Red Wolf caravan's carriages. A flash of red light erupted, and a figure shot out—standing atop a floating brocade cloth, hovering low in the air, he coldly declared.

Seeing him, Yinglu froze in surprise.

He too was an Immortal wearing a green hood.

"Feng Immortal, be careful! There are three Yuanjiao!" the big man shouted, voice trembling. He had inquired about this Immortal's cultivation before hiring—he knew Feng was only early Foundation Establishment, barely qualified as a true Immortal. Facing even one Yuanjiao was risky; three were unthinkable. He was terrified.

Meanwhile, the elder on the ground quickly glanced toward his own tribe's carriage. Seeing another figure in a green hood standing on the carriage's pole, gazing upward, he breathed a slight sigh of relief. If the Cold Immortal's cultivation wasn't too low, the two together might still scare off the three Yuanjiao.

The three Yuanjiao instantly spotted the blue-robed Immortal hovering above. Though they'd encountered Human Immortals before and knew not to underestimate them, they hesitated—unable to abandon the abundant prey below. They circled above, a hundred zhang in the air.

"Hmph. Seeking death." The blue-robed man, annoyed the Yuanjiao hadn't fled, raised his hand without hesitation. Several talismans flew from his palm, instantly transforming into three fire snakes, each over ten feet long, streaking toward the demon birds.

"Huh? Fire Snake Technique?" Han Li, standing atop the carriage, murmured in surprise.

Though a low-level spell, transforming Fire Snake Technique into talismans was far beyond the means of an ordinary Foundation Establishment Immortal. This man was no common cultivator. Han Li narrowed his eyes, intrigued.

But then he frowned and sighed inwardly.

The three fire snakes surged forward fiercely, yet at such distance, the Yuanjiao evaded them effortlessly. The blue-robed man had a shallow grasp of the technique—he didn't even guide the fire snakes to pursue, wasting precious talismans.

Worse, he only enraged the three demons.

The largest one let out a deafening cry. All three folded their wings and dove straight down at the blue-robed man.

Seeing his talismans fail, the blue-robed man froze. Then, seeing the demons hurtling toward him, he panicked.

Flailing wildly, he pulled out a faintly glowing little sword, muttering incantations frantically to activate it.

Han Li shook his head again.

The demons were already attacking—why wasn't he summoning a protective barrier first? Instead, he tried to counter with a weapon? This was suicide. Clearly, this man was a complete novice in combat.

Yet that little sword was a high-grade magic treasure. He must have some background.

The blue-robed man recited his spell flawlessly. As the Yuanjiao neared, he finally completed the activation and hurled the sword aloft.

A flash of light—the sword became a white streak several feet long, slicing straight toward the central Yuanjiao, moving with astonishing speed.

The demon bird sensed danger, twisted sharply to evade—but too late. It slammed its black claw into the white light.

The white light halted briefly. A piercing shriek rang out from above—one black claw was cleanly severed, blood spraying down. But the other two Yuanjiao instantly flanked the blue-robed man from either side, all four claws striking for his crown.

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