Chapter 955

Just as Han Li was about to confront the ancient devil’s split soul and riskily test whether its injuries had fully healed, the ancient devil’s expression changed abruptly, and he suddenly glanced behind him.

Han Li paused, then also sensed something, raising an eyebrow to look in the same direction.

Moments later, distant skylight flickered, and a streak of shocking brilliance suddenly appeared on the horizon, hurtling toward them at breakneck speed—so fast it startled even Han Li, and faint thunder and wind sounds echoed from within the aura.

Seeing a cultivator approaching, the ancient devil’s eyes flashed with murderous intent, yet he immediately softened his grim expression, staring coldly at the incoming aura without a word.

In those mere twenty or thirty li, the streak of brilliance arrived almost instantly, flickering into view dozens of zhang away, revealing a disheveled head monk.

The head monk’s face was thick with muscle; one hand held a crimson round bowl, the other gripped a Bi green staff several chi long. Now, glancing at Han Li and the ancient devil, he noticed their striking resemblance and his eyes flickered with suspicion.

“Which of you is the cultivator who just left the exchange fair? I have urgent business to discuss with you.” The head monk’s eyes rolled slightly, then he suddenly smiled broadly.

Han Li’s lips twitched; he cast a sidelong glance at the man but said nothing.

This head monk was a Nascent Soul mid-stage cultivator; his cultivation base and the treasures in his possession both seemed exceptionally formidable—no wonder he dared to pursue alone. But Han Li knew full well what the man intended, and thus had no interest in responding.

The ancient devil, from the moment the head monk appeared, had already clasped his hands behind his back and gazed skyward, utterly ignoring him.

Seeing Han Li and the ancient devil’s attitude, the head monk was furious.

Since ascending to the Nascent Soul realm, he had relied on his Blood Flame Bowl and Panlong Staff—every peer cultivator treated him with extreme deference. When had he ever been so scorned?

Yet Han Li and the ancient devil displayed Nascent Soul mid-stage and early-stage cultivation respectively, and their faces were so alike—he naturally assumed they were allies. Facing two opponents, though he didn’t believe he’d certainly lose, his chances of victory were slim. Thus, despite his furious expression, he could only barely suppress his rage, secretly plotting how to pick them off one by one.

But before he could devise a plan, light flared from the direction he’d come from, and three differently colored auras simultaneously emerged, flying toward them in unison.

Seeing this, the head monk froze.

He prided himself on his exceptional speed, which had allowed him to catch up to Han Li so quickly. These three behind him—what abilities did they possess? They were numerous and only slightly slower. Clearly, claiming the treasure alone was unlikely. Yet their arrival meant he no longer had to face two cultivators alone—on that front, it wasn’t entirely bad.

Thinking this, the head monk’s face twisted into a sinister expression as he swept cold, menacing glances at Han Li and the ancient devil.

As if sensing the head monk’s hostility, the ancient devil—who had been gazing skyward—suddenly lowered his head, glanced at the approaching auras, and his face darkened with impatience.

“What a nuisance. I thought only this one would interfere. I didn’t expect so many would come to die. Since it’s like this, I’ll send you on your way first.” With a cold utterance, the ancient devil’s body flashed with black light, instantly transforming into a streak of black energy that shot straight toward the head monk.

The head monk cursed silently—“Die!”—without hesitation, flipping his bowl. A torrent of crimson flame erupted from within, forming a vast curtain that shielded him. His other hand raised, and the green staff flew free, transforming into a jade-green dragon that lunged toward the black streak.

As the dragon spat green breath and lunged at the black streak, the streak trembled—and vanished mid-air.

The head monk, experienced in combat, instantly realized the danger. Without delay, he rapidly formed hand seals, firing several azure spells into the surrounding flame curtain. The flames surged instantly, multiplying in height by several times, becoming a towering, roaring cyclone of Qing red fire, twenty to thirty zhang high, terrifying in its might.

Still uneasy, the head monk slapped his waist, preparing to retrieve another protective treasure.

But in that instant, a sudden change erupted!

From a spot several zhang to the head monk’s side, black light flashed—two entirely black-purple arms shot out with lightning speed, plunging directly into the flame curtain without the slightest hesitation.

“Ah!”

Seeing this, the head monk’s heart turned cold. Without time to think, he roared aloud, opened his mouth, and a vast wave of golden aura erupted, instantly solidifying into a radiant shield before him. Simultaneously, his body trembled, preparing to flee far away.

With a soft *thump*, the golden shield shattered like paper. As the head monk moved, two massive holes pierced his dantian simultaneously. The two demonic arms tore violently left and right—his entire body split cleanly into two halves, organs and torrents of blood raining down from midair.

A crimson Nascent Soul let out a mournful cry, then shot away on a golden flying sword, instantly teleporting over twenty zhang away from the corpse.

But as the Nascent Soul’s body flashed golden, preparing to teleport farther, it had no chance.

A purple thread suddenly flashed behind the Nascent Soul. The Nascent Soul felt its head grow hot—something pierced through its skull from behind. It shrieked shrilly, then lost all strength, utterly defenseless as the purple thread whipped it back into the flames, vanishing without a trace.

At that moment, the three distant auras had just reached several hundred zhang away—the cultivators within clearly witnessed the entire scene. Terrified beyond measure, they dared not approach further. After a quick circle, they fled backward at even greater speed than when they’d arrived.

All three were Nascent Soul early-stage cultivators; they’d assumed their combined strength could secure an advantage. But seeing the infamous Evil Flame Head Monk—renowned for his mid-stage power—destroyed in a single instant, his body shattered and his Nascent Soul captured, how could they not be petrified?

How could they dare risk their lives for some treasure? Naturally, they fled.

In the blink of an eye, the three auras vanished.

Han Li, witnessing the ancient devil’s brutal instant kill, sucked in a sharp breath, staring at the distant flames, his expression shifting between dark and pale.

A sharp, eerie laugh emerged from the flames, then all fire vanished instantly—the ancient devil’s form reappeared.

Han Li’s gaze fell on him, and his lips twitched involuntarily, his face darkening.

The ancient devil had now transformed into a half-demon, half-human form. Though his face and torso retained human shape, his exposed arms and legs—bursting from his torn green robe—had turned black-purple and swollen nearly half again in size.

More chilling still: from his slightly open mouth extended a purple tongue several chi long, its tip piercing the head monk’s still-unconscious Nascent Soul. Two emotionless eyes stared coldly at Han Li.

Han Li narrowed his eyes, meeting the demon’s gaze without flinching.

“Han boy, you can’t afford to tangle with this demon for long. This place isn’t far from the underground exchange fair—more cultivators will arrive soon. If they do, you won’t be able to escape.” Dàyǎn Shénjūn warned anxiously.

“I know. I originally wanted to gauge the difference in power between this fragment and the main soul, but now it’s clear this isn’t the time to fight—it’s too risky. Let’s go.” Han Li spoke calmly, then shook his sleeve. The golden flying sword circling before him hummed, then vanished into his robes. He opened his mouth and spat out several clots of essence blood—thick crimson mist instantly engulfed his figure.

“Want to leave? Isn’t it too late?” The ancient devil’s eyes glowed with inhuman light. He retracted his tongue, swallowed the Nascent Soul whole, then his body blurred and vanished from the spot.

Han Li ignored him entirely, forming hand seals—thunder cracked—and a pair of silver-white wings suddenly appeared behind his back. His figure began to blur within the crimson mist.

But simultaneously, black light flickered before Han Li—the ancient devil’s monstrous, demonic form materialized right in front of him. His teleportation speed was nearly half again faster than when he’d killed the head monk—he’d held back then.

Han Li, previously composed, instantly paled, muttering inwardly, “Damn it.”

The ancient devil’s face twisted into a cruel grin, opened his mouth, and prepared to launch his purple tongue to obliterate Han Li within the mist.

But at that moment, a freezing, icy snort pierced the ancient devil’s mind—like an invisible drill. Even with his extraordinary spiritual sense, he felt a sharp pain in his skull, let out a muffled groan, and his movement halted.

In that brief instant, Han Li flashed within the mist, transforming into a crimson shadow that shot away—within a few breaths, he vanished on the horizon.

The ancient devil was startled, immediately extending his spiritual sense—but just as he located Han Li a hundred li away, Han Li used Blood Shadow Dash again, escaping beyond the reach of his perception.

The ancient devil froze in place.

“Blood Shadow Dash? Isn’t that the secret technique of Tiechi Mo? How can a mortal cultivator use it? This is troublesome. Wait—something’s different!” He muttered to himself, then frowned in deep thought.

But at that moment, light flared from the distant sky—six or seven differently colored auras simultaneously appeared on the horizon, hurtling toward them.

The ancient devil’s expression shifted, snapped from his thoughts. He coldly scanned the approaching cultivators, a flash of murderous intent crossing his face.

“Perfect. The Nascent Souls I devoured years ago have been fully digested. Now, if I consume another batch, my injuries should fully heal within a few years.” The ancient devil muttered coldly, then drew a deep breath. Thick black-purple demonic energy surged from his body, instantly engulfing him completely.

Then came several deafening roars—the demonic energy churned violently. From within emerged a colossal, double-headed, four-armed demon, its four black-purple demonic eyes staring emotionlessly at the incoming auras.

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