Han Li raised his head and looked out beyond the arena. Whether they were disciples of the Sect of Seven Mysteries, members of the Wild Wolf Gang, or martial artists from other factions, every last one of them wore a face drained of color, their eyes filled with dread as they stared back at him.
It had to be understood that everything Han Li had demonstrated—seizing the flying sword, slaying Gold Light Immortal, and incinerating dozens of elite fighters, including Jia Tianlong himself, to ash in a matter of moments—all of it proved that he was not only a cultivator of immense power like the dwarf, but also a man of ruthless resolve, devoid of mercy or kindness.
As a result, wherever his gaze fell, the onlookers averted their eyes and shrank back, not daring to meet his stare. In that moment, Han Li had truly earned the title of one whom all feared.
"Still here? Are you hoping to stay on this mountain and have me send you on your way as well?" Han Li addressed the remnants of the Wild Wolf Gang in a cold, flat voice.
His words were not loud, yet they fell upon the ears of several thousand people on the mountaintop like a clap of thunder, instantly igniting panic.
"Run! If we don't leave now, he'll burn us all!" someone shouted, and the cry seemed to spark a stampede.
In an instant, the Wild Wolf Gang and the smaller factions erupted into chaos. They scrambled over one another, pushing and shoving their way down the narrow path that led from the peak, so tightly packed that not even rain could have seeped through. Along the way, countless others were trampled underfoot.
Moments later, Sunset Peak was nearly empty. Save for the disciples of the Sect of Seven Mysteries, not a single outsider remained.
Wang Juechu stood in a state of mingled shock and elation. He had never imagined that the crisis would be resolved so completely—and that Jia Tianlong would be obliterated in the process. Beyond his wild joy, however, there lurked a thread of unease.
He understood that if this young man could help the Sect of Seven Mysteries overcome such a calamity with effortless ease, then with those same powers, he could just as easily crush the sect, perhaps even reducing its situation to something worse than what the Wild Wolf Gang now faced.
At this thought, the heart he had only just allowed to settle began to race once more. His gaze, almost involuntarily, drifted toward the center of the arena.
"Huh? Where is the Divine Doctor Han?" Wang Juechu's eyes widened in alarm.
The man he now regarded as both a figure of extraordinary power and an unpredictable variable had already vanished from the spot.
"Did anyone see where Doctor Han went?" Wang Juechu asked those around him, urgency creeping into his voice.
"I don't know."
"I wasn't paying attention."
Nearly everyone shook their heads in ignorance. This was hardly surprising. After watching Han Li's terrifying display of burning men alive, who would dare keep their eyes locked on such a figure? And with those uncanny, ghostlike movements, disappearing was as simple as breathing for him.
"Don't bother looking. I saw him slip into the crowd heading downhill just a moment ago. He's already left Sunset Peak." It was the gray-robed man—noticeably healthier than before—who spoke up.
"Left the mountain? Where would he go?" Wang Juechu smiled bitterly, his expression complicated, and murmured to himself.
As he surveyed the surroundings, his gaze happened to land on a particular person.
Wang Juechu's eyes suddenly gleamed, and the corners of his mouth curved upward, revealing the crafty expression of an old fox.
At that very moment, Li Feiyu—still buzzing with excitement over the revelation that his close friend had become an otherworldly figure—was chatting animatedly with Zhang Xiuer, entirely unaware that someone had already set their sights on him.
And so, the Wild Wolf Gang and the other factions withdrew hastily from the Caixia Mountain Range, and without pausing, fled through the night beyond the borders of the Sect of Seven Mysteries' territory. The senior members of the sect, led by Wang Juechu, had suffered heavy losses themselves and chose not to send pursuers.
In the days that followed, both sides lay low and focused on recovery.
This dramatic battle between the Sect of Seven Mysteries and the Wild Wolf Gang soon spread throughout the surrounding region, becoming a local legend tinged with the flavor of immortals and demons. It was talked about among both the righteous and the underworld factions, and even common folk relished recounting it as a tale—a story that refused to fade with time.
In the popular version of events, the battle began with a confrontation between a peerless swordsman who wielded sword glow and an immortal swordsman who commanded a flying sword. The flying sword proved the more wondrous of the two, defeating the swordsman of brilliant technique. At that moment, the great villain known as the Fire Demon appeared. Not only did he strike down the swordsman while both sides were weakened, but his demonic nature erupted, and he incinerated nearly a thousand fighters from various factions in a single blaze. The leader of the Wild Wolf Gang perished among them. In the end, the Fire Demon's sins were too great, and he provoked the wrath of the heavens. A divine thunderbolt struck him down on the spot, leaving not even bones behind—which was why he simply vanished from the story.
When Han Li heard this thoroughly demonized version of events from Li Feiyu at his dwelling in Spirit Hands Valley, he stood frozen in place, speechless for a long while. Li Feiyu, meanwhile, was doubled over with laughter, unable to straighten up for a good while.
It was already noon on the fifth day since the end of the death match.
That evening, Han Li had slipped away in the chaos, following the flow of people down from Sunset Peak. After locating Qu Hun, he had returned with him to the valley.
The moment he arrived back, Han Li hung a sign at the valley's entrance announcing that he was receiving no visitors and wished to see no one. This turned away the several senior members of the sect who had planned to come and pay their respects that very night.
Of course, given Han Li's fearsome reputation, none of them dared voice any displeasure, much less enter the valley uninvited. After waiting for a while, they slunk back the way they had come.
Over the following days, Han Li began practicing the Object-Drive Art with the talisman inscribed with a small sword.
He knew that his time was limited. So each day before dawn, he used the Object-Drive Art to transform the talisman into a streak of gray light, which he sent circling and dancing through the valley until his magic power was completely drained. Then he would sit quietly in meditation, allowing his reserves to slowly recover. The moment his magic power returned to its normal level, he would resume his practice without delay.
And so Han Li repeated this cycle endlessly. This monotonous, painstaking training continued for three days, until he was satisfied that he had grasped the essential techniques of the Object-Drive Art. Only then did he finally put it aside.