Where should I cultivate? Fang Han pondered. I can't possibly flee back to Featherweight Sect in this state. Finding a secure place is urgent.
His thoughts quickly settled on one answer.
Underground.
The depths of the earth were rarely disturbed. Even more importantly, deep underground could conceal fluctuations of vital energy and the radiance of treasures—no one would sense the opportunity and come hunting him.
Once Dragon Daoist had fled and Wood Daoist was suppressed, Fang Han wasted no time. Above his head, his Golden Core released a stream of Earth Sovereign qi. The ground beneath him instantly softened and dissolved. He sank downward like a clay ox entering the sea, vanishing without a trace.
His Earth Sovereign qi had become far purer than before. After surviving the Wind-Fire Tribulation, the power of his divine abilities had surged. In the past, this qi could only liquefy a few meters of earth at a time; now it spread across several acres with ease.
He descended relentlessly, searching for a secure underground domain where he could cultivate in peace and recover fully. Only at peak condition—brimming with vitality—would it be safe to return to Featherweight Sect. In his current state, encountering even a single Grand Ancient at full strength would mean certain death.
Defeating Wood Daoist at merely thirty percent power had already been terrifyingly difficult.
From this day forward, Fang Han knew one thing clearly: Grand Ancients were to be treated with extreme caution.
As for experts of the second Longevity Realm—those who had refined immortal bodies—there was only one option.
Run.
At that very moment, tens of thousands of miles away, on a desolate reef island in the middle of the sea, an elderly man dressed in a black robe withdrew his gaze.
His face was weathered by time, his hands dry and shriveled, as though the years themselves had carved into his flesh.
This man was none other than the fortune-teller who had once read Fang Han's fate.
The Heart Demon Elder.
A figure unknown to the Profound Yellow World—clearly a cultivator who had descended from beyond the heavens.
"So ruthless… truly ruthless," he murmured. "Decisive, merciless, precise. He dared to hunt Dragon Daoist and Wood Daoist directly—and succeeded. Compared to him, even Jiao Fei is laughable."
His eyes glimmered with regret.
"If only I had met him earlier. I would have taken him as my successor. He is perfectly suited to cultivate the Great Heart Demon Art. With his nature, he could push it to its ultimate realm—wherever sentient beings harbor heart demons, he would exist eternally."
At its peak, the Great Heart Demon Art was nearly immortal.
As long as any living being—past, present, or future—possessed inner demons, the cultivator would be impossible to eradicate.
To destroy such an existence, one would have to enlighten every living being in all worlds, purifying them into immortal, perfectly awakened beings.
Even the Heart Demon Elder himself had not reached that level.
Yet in his heart, he believed Fang Han might.
Such praise was staggering.
"I came to the Profound Yellow World seeking the Three Thousand Great Daos," he continued softly. "They first emerged here from the Gate of Eternity, then spread across countless worlds and stars. The third-ranked Great Wish Art lies with Exquisite Immortal Venerable—beyond my reach."
He sighed.
"Fang Han cultivates the Great Five Elements Art, the Great Cutting Art, the Great Origin Art… but none surpass the Great Reincarnation Art of the Yellow Springs Emperor. Worse, his techniques are incomplete. Of no use to me."
A flicker of disdain crossed his face.
"Panwu Immortal Venerable even dared to claim the Great Origin Art as his own creation—renaming it the Panwu Divine Strength. Stealing the Dao itself."
He shook his head.
"Featherweight Sect possesses the Vacuum Yin-Yang Dao—the Great Yin-Yang Art. Why wasn't it taught to this boy? With his talent and resolve, couldn't their sect master see it? The Three Calamities and Nine Tribulations of the Supreme Unity Sect, the Twelve Profound Laws—all are branches of the Great Catastrophe Art."
"I've already obtained the Great Annihilation Art from Ying Xiantian. Next comes the Great Catastrophe Art. The more of the Three Thousand Daos one cultivates, the closer one draws to immortality."
He sighed once more.
"Only the Great Fate Art remains unseen… and the Great Karma Art rests in the hands of Buddhism. They alone hold a thousand of the Great Daos."
As his words faded, his form dissolved into pure primordial energy, dispersing into the void without a trace.
Fang Han, of course, knew nothing of this.
He descended over seventy thousand meters underground before discovering a vast subterranean cavern rich with vital energy—a geomantic treasure ground. There, he placed the Yellow Springs Diagram, layered countless restriction arrays, sealed off all traces of aura, and entered the diagram's internal world together with the Eightfold Pagoda.
The Yellow Springs Sacred River roared as ever, the Oblivion Water flowing endlessly.
Yet now, the river churned violently, shaken by an overwhelming force—as if it might leap out of the diagram altogether.
That force came from deep within the Gate of Abi.
In the rolling abyssal demonic qi, something ferocious was sealed—a devil struggling to overturn the world of the Yellow Springs Diagram itself.
Wood Daoist's Dharma Form.
A Grand Ancient did not simply perish.
Even reduced to a fraction of his power, he was terrifying beyond measure.
"Abi Suppression! Chains of Helplessness!"
Deep within the Gate of Abi, Yan's claws flashed through countless hand seals. Profound incantations poured forth, and from the Bridge of Helplessness shot endless chains and iron shackles, piercing straight through Wood Daoist's Dharma Form and binding him completely.
Streams of abyssal demonic qi flooded along the chains, invading his vital energy, disrupting his consciousness—preventing self-destruction.
A Grand Ancient's self-detonation could obliterate a thousand miles.
Wood Daoist uttered no cry of pain.
Instead, the shattered flesh around him transformed into arcs of blood light, spinning rapidly as they were refined—condensing into blood-red halos that reinforced his Dharma Form.
He was refining his own broken body, trying to break free.
As the blood halos grew denser, the Yellow Springs Diagram shook ever more violently, like a dragon straining against its chains.
"Still struggling at death's door?" Fang Han growled.
Having stabilized his own energy, he unleashed a ruthless strike. His Golden Core flew forth, rings of light bursting from it and crashing into the blood halos. With a single震动, the halos shattered completely.
Pure yang qi erupted in all directions.
Longevity Realm experts possessed bodies of pure yang—refined directly from immortal qi.
Supreme nourishment.
The Great Devouring Art activated instantly.
Fang Han absorbed the pure yang flesh and essence into his body.
"Exhilarating," he laughed. "The flesh and blood of a Longevity Realm expert truly are extraordinary. Not only have I recovered my losses—I've grown stronger."
Moments later, every trace of Wood Daoist's flesh essence had been devoured. Fang Han's body radiated crimson halos, bloodlight surging outward, eerily reminiscent of the Blood Night King of old.
After a long while, the energy settled.
The seven mouthfuls of blood he had expelled were fully replenished—though the lost lifespan remained gone. That could only be restored with longevity elixirs in the future.
Five hundred years meant nothing.
He still had over nine thousand years remaining.
And once he entered the Longevity Realm, everything would return.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Fang Han casually threw three consecutive punches. Each strike flowed seamlessly into the next, his body brimming with inexhaustible strength.
The refined pure yang essence surged into his Golden Core. It erupted once more in blinding radiance, countless rays bursting outward.
Within the Golden Core, a vague figure began to emerge.
A colossal form, thousands of meters tall.
Naked, ancient.
Its back bristled with over a thousand arms.
Its body was covered in countless eyes—each eye radiating a different emotion: greed, serenity, ferocity, compassion, hatred, joy…
A thousand emotions in one being.
A Dharma Form.
Thousand Hands. Thousand Eyes.
This was the embryonic form of Fang Han's future Dharma Form—the manifestation of the ninth level of divine abilities.
"What… is this thing?" Fang Han was stunned. "Is this what my Dharma Form will look like? Thousand hands, thousand eyes? Strange—but terrifyingly powerful."
The form was born from the fusion of countless divine abilities he had cultivated.
Too many techniques. Too many paths.
Merged together, they produced this monstrous, unprecedented manifestation.
Yet in the end, the phantom did not fully step out of nothingness. As Fang Han's blood energy weakened, the image slowly faded away.
His conclusion was clear.
Not enough vital energy.
Still insufficient to truly condense a Dharma Form.