Chapter 977

Bai Yao’s bright eyes shimmered as she held her sword aloft and slashed through the air; a sword light several feet long materialized and struck the ice wall with force, leaving a deep gash. WM.com

Han Li’s expression shifted slightly upon seeing this.

“After so many years, this flying sword still retains its spiritual nature—clearly its master once poured great effort into it. Judging by its power, the owner must have been a mid- to late-stage Core Formation cultivator. That’s odd—such a cultivator shouldn’t have been able to reach this place.” After examining the sword several times without finding any useful markings, Bai Yao’s face showed a hint of confusion.

“May I take a look?” Han Li suddenly spoke up.

“Why be so formal, friend? Take it.” Bai Yao smiled sweetly, flicked her jade finger, and sent the flying sword flying toward Han Li.

Han Li reached out with one hand and seized the sword directly, then lowered his head to examine it closely.

After a long while, he unconsciously furrowed his brow.

“What is it, Brother Han? Did you notice something?” Bai Yao asked curiously.

“This sword is forged entirely from Blue Yuan Crystal, but using only this material for a flying sword is unwise. If other materials had been blended in as additives, the sword’s quality would have been even higher. Yet this forging method was widespread over ten thousand years ago; the technique of blending other materials came later. From the patterns and runes on this sword, it also appears quite ancient. This suggests its owner, though not an ancient cultivator, was likely a cultivator from tens of thousands of years ago.” Han Li spoke calmly, one point at a time.

“Brother Han has such profound skill in artifact forging—it truly surprises me!” Bai Yao looked genuinely startled.

“Nothing much. I merely happened to see illustrations of such swords in ancient manuals. Let’s go inside the cave—perhaps we’ll find something else.” Han Li turned his head toward the cave entrance, dismissive.

“Very well, friend, after you.” Bai Yao paused briefly, then nodded, raised her hand, and released a pale, misty jade umbrella. With a graceful sway, she stepped forward into the cave first.

Han Li smiled faintly, pointed at the several flying swords above his head, causing them to merge into a golden glow that shielded his entire body, then stepped in calmly.

The cave was pitch-black, filled only with the sound of wind and distant, faint shrieks. The spirits within seemed to have sensed their arrival and grew more violent—but the sounds didn’t seem far away.

“This place can’t be very large—easier to deal with.”

Han Li murmured, raised his hand, and summoned a glowing moonstone above the two of them, then cast a spell into it.

Instantly, the moonstone blazed with light, illuminating the immediate surroundings with startling clarity.

Yet due to the obstruction of the black yin winds, areas farther away remained blurred.

After walking only fifty or sixty zhang along the cave passage, the darkness suddenly lifted—ahead, a new entrance appeared, faint green luminescence glowing from within.

Han Li and Bai Yao exchanged surprised glances.

All the caves they had previously explored had been bitterly cold and utterly dark, without a single speck of light—and all were abandoned mines, utterly worthless.

Yet with their cultivation levels, though their vigilance rose slightly, they didn’t hesitate or retreat.

Holding the jade umbrella before her, Bai Yao flickered forward and appeared at the entrance.

She glanced inside—and her face instantly paled.

Han Li appeared beside her moments later, took one look—and his expression also changed slightly.

It was a limestone cave thirty zhang in diameter; its ceiling and walls emitted a faint green glow, while at its center stood a stone pillar several zhang tall.

The pillar was unremarkable, rough and crude—but bound tightly to it by iron chains was a desiccated corpse.

The corpse had long, gray-white hair, naked and pitch-black skin, its head bowed so its face was obscured, its abdomen slit open by a sharp blade, its internal organs completely gone.

The scene was so eerie that even Bai Yao, let alone Han Li—who hadn’t expected it—felt a chill run through him.

Han Li clenched his lips, about to speak, when the blue flying sword in his hand suddenly let out a prolonged, resonant hum, then began trembling violently.

Han Li’s heart stirred; without hesitation, he flung the sword into the air.

Instantly, a blue streak shot toward the pillar, then reformed into a half-chi-long miniature sword, circling the corpse in frantic loops, emitting mournful wails.

“So this corpse is the sword’s master? It seems not only was his Golden Core taken, but his life was taken too.” Bai Yao sighed deeply, a faint look of pity crossing her face.

“He didn’t die a normal death—he was sacrificed alive by dark arts!” Han Li said coldly.

“Sacrificed alive?” Bai Yao gasped, then noticed a faint, ten-zhang-wide pattern on the cave floor—long buried under dust, which was why she hadn’t seen it earlier.

“To identify the exact type of living sacrifice array, we’d need to restore it fully.” Han Li nodded calmly.

“That’s easy—I’ll handle it.” Bai Yao smiled lightly, opened her mouth, and spat out a tiny fan shaped like ice. A flash of cold light, and it expanded to a chi in length, then gently swept toward the cave floor.

A torrent of yellowish mist erupted from the fan, instantly kicking up dust and stones in a violent whirlwind.

The entire cave grew dim and hazy, so dark that one couldn’t see their own hand before their face.

But Han Li and Bai Yao were protected by the Purple Spirit Light and spiritual aura surrounding them—they paid no heed to the dust and wind.

Their eyes were fixed solely on the pattern on the ground, as if nothing else mattered.

At that moment, ten or so zhang behind them, a faint dark glow flickered on the ground—and a black shape silently emerged, crouching motionless.

Han Li and Bai Yao didn’t turn around; they acted as if they sensed nothing.

The shadow’s crimson eyes flashed with murderous intent, its body darted forward like an arrow, its head tilting slightly—*puch!*—a streak of black light shot toward Bai Yao.

The shadow intended to ambush both Han Li and Bai Yao at once.

In that instant, Han Li suddenly reversed his hand and slapped downward. Instantly, a blue-glowing hand materialized above the cave and slammed down, gripping the shadow firmly around the waist.

The black light aimed at the woman in the embroidered robe was effortlessly deflected by her elegant flick of the jade umbrella backward.

Upon contact, white light flashed across the umbrella’s surface—the black light was instantly repelled, vanishing into the side wall, leaving only a one-cun-deep hole.

Only then did Bai Yao smile and gaze at the shadow caught in the light hand—it was a creature with a serpent’s body, an ape’s face, and two arms.

The creature’s entire body was covered in black scales, about three to four zhang long; each hand gripped a short, chi-long bone spear, razor-sharp.

Though pinned by the light hand, it thrashed violently, its blood-red eyes filled with hatred as if it bore a mortal grudge against them.

“A Niyuan? Such a spirit creature still exists in the world?” Bai Yao stared, momentarily stunned.

“Mm. I’ve heard these spirits form from intense human resentment in places of heavy yin—violent, bloodthirsty, and fond of devouring living humans’ brains. They can mimic all kinds of spirit cries. The earlier corpse shrieks were likely this thing imitating. Hmph! I’ve only seen illustrations in ancient texts—this is my first time seeing one. But this spirit isn’t particularly powerful. To dare ambush us with such feeble skill? It’s asking for death.” Han Li glanced at the creature, speaking dismissively.

“Hmph. What use is such a vile spirit? Better to kill it!” Bai Yao loathed the Niyuan intensely; her face turned icy, and she pointed a finger—immediately, a streak of cold light shot forth, coiling around the creature, turning it instantly into an ice statue.

Han Li smiled faintly, said nothing, but with a flick of his spiritual sense, the blue light hand clenched its fingers tightly—the ice statue cracked apart in fragments, scattering into shards on the ground.

At that moment, the yellow mist settled, and the circular array was now clearly revealed.

Han Li narrowed his eyes and walked calmly toward the array. Bai Yao, however, seemed uninterested; her bright eyes swept the cave walls, as if searching for something.

“This array is a type of Soul Refining Array—and an ancient one at that. And…” After a long pause, Han Li finally spoke.

“And what?” Bai Yao turned her gaze to the array, puzzled.

“And the year this array was inscribed here appears far older than this corpse. It was likely placed here in ancient times.” Han Li stated firmly.

“Is that possible? How can you tell?” Bai Yao stared at Han Li, astonished.

“This is merely my personal experience—I may be wrong.” This time, Han Li laughed it off, evading the question.

Bai Yao blinked, then covered her mouth and chuckled softly—she didn’t press further.

“Regardless of what strange connection this array and corpse might have, it’s none of our concern. There’s nothing else here—let’s leave!” she suggested, then raised her hand, reclaimed the blue flying sword, and stored it in her storage bag.

“Mm, that makes sense.” Han Li nodded in agreement.

The two turned toward the exit.

As they neared the entrance, Han Li suddenly felt an odd, uneasy sensation—he halted, then turned back to glance once more at the corpse.

“What’s wrong?” Bai Yao asked, confused.

Han Li didn’t answer immediately; his eyes flickered, then he raised one hand and pointed a finger toward the distant pillar.

A low thunder rumbled; golden light flashed at his fingertip—a slender golden arc shot out, striking the corpse on the pillar.

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