The dragon's roar cut off, and the flood dragon shadow soared into the sky. After a brief spiral, it swooped downward and burrowed into Han Li's back, vanishing without a trace.
On his spine, blood-colored light pierced through his flesh. A blood flood dragon pattern immediately surfaced—first blurry, then sharpening into clarity. It was only a few inches across, yet rendered with astonishing lifelikeness.
At that moment, blood-colored light flickered across Han Li's entire body. From his cheeks to his arms, thumb-sized crimson scales materialized, glistening with an almost crystalline sheen. A sharp burst of pain lanced through his head, and a small flood dragon horn pushed its way out from his brow, vivid red as fresh blood. His hands transformed as well, fingers tapering to wicked points tipped with razor-hard, keen-edged nails.
At first glance, Han Li's transformed appearance bore a thirty-percent resemblance to the demon soul trapped within the sword formation. The difference was that Han Li still wore a human face, his scales dripping with blood-red color, while the demon soul's two heads were both hideously grotesque, its scales tinged violet.
Han Li had activated the Talisman of Spirit Descent. The true essence within his body had fused with the power of the flood dragon soul, and his cultivation had instantly surged to the peak of the early Nascent Soul stage—a mere hair's breadth from mid-stage.
Now, spiritual light in two colors—cyan and red—radiated from his body. Both hands seized the hilt of the Blood Demon Sword simultaneously, and he poured the full force of his magical power into it without restraint.
The Blood Demon Sword shuddered violently, then its blood-colored sword glow erupted outward by several zhang, releasing a pungent, coppery stench of blood.
The crimson horn on Han Li's forehead, fueled by the flood dragon soul's power at full unleashing, blazed with dazzling brilliance, emitting a piercing radiance.
Han Li's resolve was set. Since he had already trapped the demon soul within the sword formation, he absolutely could not allow the other ancient demon to rescue it. If the two demons were to merge into one, the trouble would be immense.
But at the other demon's current speed of flight, there was no way the sword formation would close in time—it would reach him long before then.
His only option was to strike first and annihilate the demon soul right here and now. With only one demon remaining, it would be no match for the horde of cultivators converging from behind.
Using the Blood Demon Sword carried considerable aftereffects and would drain his true essence severely. But he had already made up his mind—once this demon was destroyed with his full effort, he would immediately flee this dangerous area and take no further part in the cultivators' siege of the remaining demon. He could not afford any mishaps with his cultivation drastically depleted.
He had dealt with one demon on his own. Surely no other cultivator would hold that against him.
But at this moment, the Blood Demon Sword was like a bottomless pit. In the blink of an eye, it had swallowed more than half of Han Li's spiritual power. And the blood-colored sword glow, stretching and contracting in flickering waves, had swollen to a massive six or seven zhang in length. The sheer concentration of gathered spiritual energy was staggering—even Han Li himself was secretly astonished.
The demon soul within the sword formation stared fixedly at the enormous sword glow, and a flicker of fear gradually crept across its faces.
"Do you have a death wish?" the demon soul finally snapped, unable to hold back any longer, both heads shrieking in unison. "A human cultivator recklessly driving our Holy Realm's sacred treasure like this—do you want to be demonicized?"
Han Li let out a cold laugh, continuing to channel spiritual power into the sword without so much as a glance in the demon soul's direction.
The demon soul flew into a rage.
It knew the human was dead set on taking its life. A sinister look flashed across its faces, and in a sudden burst of blood-red light, it raised its hand and severed one of its own arms with a single stroke.
The wound was smooth as a mirror, without a single drop of blood spilling—utterly eerie!
But the instant the severed arm fell, the other hand snatched it out of the air. Then, opening its mouth, it spat several mouthful of vital blood onto the arm while a deep, guttural chant of ancient incantations rumbled from its throats.
The severed arm immediately shimmered with flowing light, blood-colored radiance pulsing across its surface. After a bout of writhing and contorting, it transformed into a long sword remarkably similar to the Blood Demon Sword.
This sword was a jagged mass of white bone, blanketed in pitch-black demonic energy. With even the slightest swing, wisps of dark qi surged skyward.
The demon soul held the bone sword before its body and channeled its own demonic energy into it in the same fashion. A black sword glow abruptly materialized on the blade and rapidly swelled.
Han Li watched this with some surprise, and a chill ran through him at the demon's ruthless cunning.
He had no idea what kind of power this sword, conjured through self-mutilation, could wield. But it was plainly no ordinary trick. He dared not show the slightest carelessness.
After a brief, sharp deliberation, he halted the infusion of magical power into the sword. With a violent shake, both hands gripping the Blood Demon Sword, he aimed at the demon soul in the sword formation and slashed downward with all his might.
He would not give the enemy the chance to bring the bone sword's power to its fullest. The attack came immediately.
A blood-red sword glow more than ten zhang long sliced through the air in dead silence, pressing down upon the sword formation with terrifying menace.
Before the glow even arrived, the demon soul was already engulfed by an overwhelming wave of blood-colored qi. The space within the sword formation trembled, then began to warp and distort, while an eerie, low-pitched humming rose from all directions.
The demon soul was horrified. This phenomenon meant the sword had been pushed to its absolute limit. And if it remembered correctly, no human cultivator should have been able to wield more than half the power of their Holy Realm's sacred treasures. Could this be connected to the transformation the human had undergone moments ago?
Though this demon had survived the great battle of ancient times, it had never heard that human cultivators had gone on to develop something as inconceivable as the Talisman of Spirit Descent. Naturally, it was completely baffled.
But with its very life hanging in the balance, the demon had no time to dwell on the mystery. With no other choice, it hastily swung the bone sword—into which it had managed to infuse only a sliver of demonic energy—upward, both heads roaring in unison.
A beam of pitch-black sword glow, nearly half the size of the blood-red one, shot from the bone sword with a piercing shriek, hurtling directly toward the crimson radiance descending from above.