Chapter 96

Han Li discovered while actually controlling the gray light that, though the gray glow summoned by the talisman was razor-sharp and could cut through nearly anything, and could be directed by his gestures to strike enemies, it still imposed considerable limitations.

First, activating this gray light consumed an enormous amount of magic power!

Someone like Han Li, who had cultivated the Evergreen Art to the eighth level, could continuously cast the full Fireball Spell over a hundred times without pause. But when directing the gray light, his magic power would be utterly depleted after merely fifteen minutes.

Now he recalled: the Golden Light Elder hadn’t wanted to use the gray glow from the start—he simply lacked sufficient magic power; the time he could sustain the talisman’s activation was probably negligible.

This also explained why the resistance Han Li encountered when seizing the artifact had been so feeble. The opponent had likely already expended most of his magic power activating the gray glow earlier, and then faced Han Li—a fresh opponent whose magic power far surpassed his own. Naturally, the dwarf had been utterly routed and easily overpowered.

In addition, another flaw of the gray light was its limited range for attacking. The gray glow could only be controlled freely within a twenty-zhang radius centered on Han Li. Beyond this range, it grew sluggish and stiff, occasionally failing. When it flew beyond thirty zhang, the gray light would revert entirely to its original talisman form and fall to the ground.

If Han Li believed the first two flaws might gradually improve as his magic power advanced, the final issue was a fatal defect inherent to the talisman itself.

After using the talisman several times, Han Li noticed that the small gray sword drawn upon the paper was slowly losing its icy luster with each use, as if its lifespan were gradually shortening. In other words, the talisman had a finite number of uses and a limited duration; once its usage limit was reached, its spiritual essence would be exhausted, and it would die.

This was one reason Han Li immediately ceased practicing once he had barely learned to control the gray light—he still wished to preserve such a powerful artifact for a critical moment. Perhaps, in some future crisis, it might save his life.

By the same logic, Han Li suspected the golden talisman capable of forming a golden shield also had identical limitations, though he currently did not know its activation incantation, so he had carefully stored it away for future use.

As for the triangular token and the Qin family genealogy, Han Li studied them during his rest periods, but gained no useful insights.

On the fifth day, just as Han Li removed the “No Visitors” sign, Li Feiyu rushed in excitedly and, upon seeing Han Li, immediately recounted to him the wild rumors that had spread about him.

These rumors left Han Li both amused and exasperated. He could only stare coldly at Li Feiyu as the latter openly mocked him.

Li Feiyu finally stopped laughing. He gradually calmed his expression and spoke to Han Li in a serious tone: “I suppose you’ve already guessed why I’ve come here.”

“Mm. You’re here because those bigwigs are uneasy about me and sent you to feel me out,” Han Li replied indifferently.

“Hehe! Good, you understand.” Li Feiyu let out a long sigh as if relieved of a heavy burden.

“But how am I supposed to answer those people? Remember, they’ve promised to make me full head of the Outer Blade Hall in exchange for my cooperation.”

Han Li frowned, thought for a moment, and murmured softly: “It seems I must meet with Wang Dapang and the others face-to-face and clarify a few things—they won’t rest easy otherwise.”

“Then tell Wang Sect Master this: tomorrow at noon, I’ll come to Sunset Peak myself to see him. Tell him not to rush.”

“Fine! With that, I can report back.” Li Feiyu shrugged, looking unconcerned.

Afterward, Han Li and Li Feiyu chatted idly for a while; Han Li even demonstrated the Fireball Spell up close for his friend, leaving Li Feiyu awestruck and envious for a long time.

Soon after, Li Feiyu took his leave and returned to the valley to report to Wang Juechu and the others.

Han Li stood at the doorway, gazing at Li Feiyu’s retreating figure for a long while, then suddenly smiled mysteriously and entered his room, closing the door with clear delight.

The next morning, as dawn barely broke, Li Feiyu slipped silently onto Sunset Peak and quietly entered Wang Sect Master’s chamber.

When Wang Juechu awoke and saw the figure standing motionless beside his bed, his face turned ashen.

Still, he forced a smile, speaking awkwardly: “Master Han, you’ve come? I apologize for not greeting you properly. But didn’t we agree to meet at noon? Why are you here so early?”

Han Li cast a cold glance at Wang Sect Master. That single look made Wang Juechu’s body bristle with gooseflesh, his face feeling as if slashed by knives.

Seeing the flicker of fear on the other’s face, Han Li felt a quiet satisfaction. This effect came from his use of the “Heavenly Eye Technique”—a new application he had recently discovered. By focusing the Heavenly Eye upon ordinary people, he could induce spiritual dread, causing panic and disarray, much like the legendary “Soul-Seizing Art” whispered about in martial circles.

“Nothing much,” Han Li said, his expression unreadable, his tone slightly hostile. “I simply thought morning meetings might leave everyone’s mind clearer, avoiding unpleasantness.”

WM