Hua Tiandu ripped an entire mountain out of the lakebed, forcing the waters apart and revealing the colossal dragon corpse and the treasure-filled cavern beneath it. The sight nearly made the Black Serpent King cough blood in rage.
While he had been fighting hundreds of Blackwater King Serpents, Hua Tiandu had quietly taken the greatest prize for himself.
"Shadow Primordial Spirit—seize the dragon bones!"
The Black Serpent King acted instantly. His body sank into the muddy lakebed while his shadowy primordial spirit shot downward, turning into a streak of demonic mist aimed at the thousand-meter-long ancient dragon skeleton—especially the jade tome clutched within its jaws.
The serpents that had been suppressing his shadow-spirit suddenly lost all pressure. Then they realized the mountain they guarded had been uprooted, and the dragon corpse they worshipped lay exposed. Enraged, the swarm split—half charging Hua Tiandu, half diving to protect the dragon bones.
"Black Serpent King! You dare!"
Hua Tiandu flicked his sleeve. A flying sword erupted forth, expanding into a thousand-meter arc of blinding light—sharp enough to cleave heaven itself.
"Panwu Divine Sword!" the Black Serpent King cried out. He hadn't expected Hua Tiandu—after parting the lake, uprooting the mountain, and seizing the treasure—to still have enough strength to attack him. He flung up a long battle banner, but it was useless. The sword-light shredded it instantly.
This sword wasn't any ordinary weapon—it was a fully awakened Dao-Artifact, even stronger than the Blood Sky Demon Blade. Under Hua Tiandu's power, it radiated a world-splitting force.
The Black Serpent King had no choice but to unleash his own primordial spirit and block it directly. Only his personal Dao-manifestation could withstand such power—even then, barely. He had reached the Ninth Realm of supernatural abilities, but he did not possess a Dao-Artifact of his own.
Even the Ghost Emperor lacked one—how could he?
"You Blackwater Serpents," Hua Tiandu said coldly, "I never wanted to kill you. All of you—submit."
His sleeve snapped open again, releasing a massive alchemical furnace. Auspicious clouds and divine vapors surged outward, freezing the serpents midair before dragging all of them toward the furnace's maw.
Another Dao-Artifact.
Stronger than the Five-Hell King Cauldron.
Two Dao-Artifacts at once—Hua Tiandu clearly intended to claim every treasure here: the dragon bones, the blood-crystal mountain, and the sealed dragon-palace beneath it, whose aura hinted at powerful relics within.
If he acquired everything, the haul would be worth more than ten billion in divine-grade pills—a fortune beyond imagination.
But just as the serpents were about to be swallowed, the air around the dragon bones rippled. Countless blade-shaped distortions flickered into existence, and two royal figures stepped out of the void—the Thirteenth Prince and the strongest of the imperial heirs, the Fourth Prince Yi.
"The Dragon Bones!"
The Fourth Prince's eyes blazed. An invisible spiritual force surged from above his head—a deity lurking in a parallel space—grabbing the dragon skeleton from afar.
A rare "Formless Primordial Spirit"—a Ninth Realm manifestation.
Hua Tiandu's lips curled. "Prince Yi, the dragon corpse and its dragon-tome are mine. But the cavern below—there's a dragon palace with more than a dozen high-grade artifacts. You may divide those with the First Prince."
Even while fending off the Black Serpent King, suppressing a mountain, holding back the lake, and capturing hundreds of serpents, Hua Tiandu still had the reserve to pressure Prince Yi. His own Panwu Primordial Spirit erupted skyward, descending like an ancient god.
The lakebed shattered with thunderous cracks. Both princes staggered backward under the force.
With a single sweep, Hua Tiandu seized the dragon bones.
Prince Yi's face darkened. "Those lesser treasures are useless to me. Only the dragon corpse and its tome are worth anything. Hand them over."
Sword-whistles filled the air—dozens of kilometers quaked as his formless spirit lashed at Hua Tiandu.
He dared strike at Hua Tiandu directly.
"Haha! Yi, if you cultivated another thousand years, you might challenge me. Today you cannot."
Hua Tiandu crushed the invisible attack between his fingers. Prince Yi coughed blood instantly—his "invisible" spirit completely exposed.
"Rise!"
The moment he regained control, Hua Tiandu lifted the dragon bones—gleaming like a gigantic sun-white wyrm.
But a needle-thin streak of gold shot across the battlefield. A flash of black force blasted Hua Tiandu's power aside, and a yellow dragon-shadow burrowed into the dragon corpse.
The bones awakened—eyes blazing yellow, hellish flames igniting within their hollow sockets.
A roar tore reality apart.
The corpse broke free of Hua Tiandu's grip, shattering the Panwu Primordial Spirit's restraints.
"Demonic possession! A magic spirit has fused with the bones!"
Hua Tiandu's fury shook the lake. A primordial spirit of terrifying power had seized the momentary chaos to invade the dragon corpse.
It was Yan.
And Hua Tiandu had left too many openings—suppressing water, mountain, princes, serpents. Even his strength, close to the Longevity Realm, couldn't cover everything at once.
Panwu fire surged—an eerie chaos-flame, neither black nor white.
Yan screamed internally.
"A primordial life-fire! I'll be burned alive!"
He roared toward Fang Han:
"Now! Stall him!"
A flash of killing intent descended upon Hua Tiandu.
Fang Han.
Faster than instant slaying arts—his White Emperor Golden Severing technique pierced the void, its strikes sharp as living blades.
Hua Tiandu sensed the attack at the last instant, flaring with power. The blow still forced him to retreat.
A storm of invisible sword-strikes rained down on his acupoints.
But Hua Tiandu vanished.
Not by his own skill—by a spatial treasure. Fang Han caught the flicker of a jade talisman on his neck as he disappeared.
A perfect opportunity—lost.
"If I had formed my Golden Core… if I had refined the Nine Ghost Spirits… I could have killed him."
Frustration burned through Fang Han, but he did not hesitate. He swept the falling blood-crystal mountain into the Yellow Springs Diagram, then unleashed the abyssal vortex of the Abi Gate, swallowing all the gathered serpents in a single strike.
He dared not touch Hua Tiandu's Dao-Artifact furnace—if trapped inside, it would destroy the Yellow Springs Diagram from within.
Only after witnessing Hua Tiandu firsthand did Fang Han fully understand the gap between them.
He must reach Golden Core. No other path.
With a final burst of speed that pushed his body to the brink of collapse, Fang Han reached the dragon bones. The Abi Gate opened once more—Yan dove inside with a triumphant scream.
In less than a heartbeat, the battlefield was stripped clean.
The dragon bones.
The blood-crystal mountain.
Hundreds of serpents.
All devoured by the Yellow Springs Diagram—one of the few treasures capable of swallowing mountains whole.
Even Fang Han hadn't expected he could move this fast—this was his absolute limit.