The gourd of sentient wish-power plunged into the Forgetful Water, swirling as Fang Han purified it ninety thousand times. Still unsatisfied, he washed it another ninety thousand times with the Abyssal Demonic Qi. Only then did he extract a single wisp, examine it with meditative insight, and confirm that the Star Master had made no alterations.
Only after that did he inhale the entire gourd of accumulated will.
The Star Master likely had no reason to tamper with the gift—but caution was a virtue Fang Han would never abandon.
This gourd contained the collective prayers of eighty million beings raised under the Celestial Star Sect, accumulated over ten years. If Fang Han hadn't helped Nebula Baby so significantly, the Star Master might have offered a polite greeting gift—but never something this priceless.
The wish-power glowed with a soft golden light—not the dull sheen of metal, but the crystalline shimmer of pure devotion. It felt clean, precious, sincere, and hopeful—far gentler and more uplifting than resentment, battle intent, or hatred. It could calm demonic impulses, soothe hidden wounds, and support cultivation.
It was said the Buddhist sects were the true masters of will-power magic.
Once drawn into his mind, it caused no danger. Following the method of the Panwu Titan Divine Ability, Fang Han opened a new mental sea—his third consciousness ocean.
Then he continued.
The vast reservoir of wish-power remained potent, allowing him to open a fourth.
Then a fifth.
Only then was the wish-power exhausted. Meanwhile, the Panwu Titan ability within his life-seal had been strengthened and nourished to an astonishing degree.
When Fang Han finally opened his eyes, he saw it clearly within his mind—five mysterious mental spaces, arranged in parallel, operating independently yet harmoniously. He could not help but admire the profundity of the Panwu Titan arts. No wonder Hua Tiandu wielded such overwhelming might—tearing earth, sundering mountains, shattering lakes.
"My own strength now approaches that of ten million charging warhorses. Hua Tiandu is several times stronger—almost touching the level of the Longevity Realm giants. His power quality also surpasses mine. But the Nine Ghost Immortal Souls are divine-ability tier ten—'Fate-Reversing' quality. Once I refine them, he won't be able to threaten me."
Still, only two of his five consciousness oceans were filled with divine abilities. The remaining three were empty. Unless he filled them, his strength could not rise meaningfully.
Legends said masters of the Longevity Realm possessed the strength of one hundred million galloping warhorses.
Ancient Dao texts compared the power of a Heavenly Dragon to that same magnitude—one hundred million.
The number "hundred million" represented a hidden cosmic law. Its character was composed of "man" beside "dragon"—a symbol of human and dragon traveling side by side.
Only those of the Longevity Realm were worthy of such a number.
Above "hundred million" lay "trillion"—a character that signified omen, destiny, fate. Only the most exalted Longevity paragons earned that title.
Fang Han knew: after refining the Nine Ghost Immortal Souls and forming his Golden Core, acquiring ninety innate divine abilities, his strength would approach that fabled hundred-million threshold.
"Now then… Nine Ghost Immortal Souls—break!"
His fist struck. The immense soul-body shattered, unraveling into thirty-four ghost-path divine abilities. The core was five demonic specters—one jade-green, one pitch-black, one golden-scaled, one blazing with fire, one earth-colored.
These were the Ghost Emperor's essence arts: the Five-Element Demon Ghosts.
But the moment the five specters emerged, they snarled like predators, instinctively lunging to devour. Fang Han released his life-seal; the Five Emperor Demon Divine Ability manifested and instantly suppressed them, sealing the ghosts within his mind.
He continued harvesting divine ability after divine ability.
Each one was monstrous—nearly brushing the Longevity Realm, each tinged with "fate-altering" profundities. As he absorbed them, Fang Han felt hints of some elusive realm, a deeper understanding of post-divine-ability cultivation.
But thirty-four demonic arts poured in at once, filling all five consciousness oceans with wailing souls and murderous qi. The backlash was vicious, enough to drive any normal cultivator insane. Even a Golden Core master would fail to refine them.
But Fang Han was not a normal cultivator.
He possessed fifty-six divine seals—and the Great Devouring Technique, the supreme demonic art birthed from the Kunpeng egg itself.
That seal could suppress any demon.
The torrent of ghostly qi, the curses of countless slain by the Ghost Emperor, the thick resentment—none of it could shake him. Instead, it tempered his will. He sat like an ancient Buddha in meditation, subduing the demons, transforming malice into clarity, violence into calm. No matter how they clawed, he remained unmoved.
He did not know how long it lasted. Eventually, the towering demonic tides receded, tamed by his iron will. The magic softened, smoothed, and began integrating into his life-seal.
If all thirty-four ghost-dao abilities merged perfectly, his life-seal would embody true unity of immortal and demonic—holding ninety divine abilities in total.
At this critical moment, Fang Han's mind did not waver.
Immortal qi stored within his body surged into the consciousness oceans. His life-seal blazed, sending out pillars of crimson and gold, tempering each demonic imprint with his own spirit. The Great Devouring Technique roared, swallowing and refining, breaking down every art and re-forging it anew.
Then suddenly—everything fused.
Thirty-four demonic arts merged into the life-seal.
But instead of empowering him, an alien intent erupted from within. A flood of memories—scenes from the Ghost Emperor's three-thousand-year life—coalesced into a towering phantom.
The Ghost Emperor's consciousness had revived.
"Hahahaha! Fang Han! Did you truly believe a genius of my era—peer of Linglong Immortal Venerable—could die so easily? Had I possessed Yellow Springs Holy Water, I would have stepped into the Longevity Realm long ago! You thought you could destroy me? I've planted my demonic seed since the moment you captured me. Now I have awakened within your mind. Your body is mine! Your divine abilities—mine! I shall become master of the Yellow Springs Diagram and ascend as a true ancient titan!"
The Ghost Emperor's thoughts flooded Fang Han's mindscape, forming a monstrous shadow that seized his life-seal.
But Fang Han only snorted coldly.
"You think I wasn't ready for this? If I couldn't guard against a dying demonic emperor, how would I ever inherit the Yellow Springs legacy? You've chosen the perfect moment—unfortunately, so have I. Time to test my new artifact: the Eight-Part Pagoda. Even as a damaged relic, it's a dragon-clan treasure designed to suppress demons. You'll serve as the first test piece."
He extended a hand.
Eight powerful artifacts—ruler, bronze bell, war drum, alchemical furnace, iron chariot wheel-axe, halberd, coral beads, and crystal sphere—flew from his body. Each projected a phantom rune into his mind, forming a formation that caged the Ghost Emperor.
"Eight… Eight-Part Pagoda! The legendary dragon treasure that suppresses all evil! Impossible—impossible for you to wield—AHHH!"
The Ghost Emperor shrieked.
Fang Han remained unmoving.
He had expected this. The Nine Ghost Immortal Souls were never going to be simple. This moment was fate—a tribulation he needed to overcome. With preparation and the Pagoda's pieces, his victory was assured.
"If this were a complete immortal artifact, a thousand Ghost Emperors would perish instantly. Even without it, I could kill you—just with more effort. But since you leapt out at the perfect moment, you've actually helped me. Your emergence shirks off a hidden calamity from my fate."
Calmly, he tightened his will and annihilated the last trace of the Ghost Emperor's consciousness.
Just as Fang Han forced the demon into oblivion—
Boom!
The mountain peak surrounding Nebula Baby shook violently.
Several immense auras swept in, landing outside. A chorus of powerful presences revealed themselves—elite true disciples of the Celestial Star Sect.
"Senior Brother of the Star Gate, Second Brother… Seventh Brother—Star-Annihilating Fiend, Hidden Power, Heavenly Transformer, Wu Zixu… request audience with Junior Brother Fang Han!"
Their voices boomed across the mountain.
The sect's finest had come knocking.