The Spoils of War, the Cost of Survival

Han Li raised his hand and gestured toward the air. The giant sword reversed direction and flew back, but by the time it reached him, it had already reverted to its talisman form, drifting lightly down toward his palm.

Just as he reached out to take the talisman treasure, the paper let out a soft crackle mid-fall and spontaneously ignited. Within moments, it had become a pile of ash, scattered by the mountain wind and vanishing without a trace.

Han Li stared blankly for a moment, then a bitter smile crossed his face.

This "Talisman Treasure" was completely finished. The meager power it had left had been exhausted during the protracted tug-of-war. Now that he fully understood the value of such treasures, the loss stung deeply—but there was nothing he could do about it.

After all, killing an enemy as formidable as "Senior Brother Lu" without paying some price was impossible. The Cyan Flood Dragon Flag the man had wielded, however, was an excellent trophy, more than enough to compensate for the loss of the talisman treasure. And that was not even counting the two Foundation Establishment Pills waiting to be recovered.

The thought lifted his spirits immensely. This brutal battle had been well worth the cost.

If he could successfully break through to Foundation Establishment by taking these pills, he would no longer need to risk his life in the so-called "Blood Forbidden Trial." After all, how many cultivators as strong as, or even more troublesome than, "Senior Brother Lu" would be waiting there?

A short while later, feeling that some spiritual power had been restored by absorbing energy from the spirit stone in his hand, Han Li decided to stand up and retrieve the Cyan Flood Dragon Flag lying not far away.

But the moment he straightened his waist and tried to stand, a sharp, stabbing pain erupted from his dantian—like countless steel needles driving into him all at once. The agony bent him double again, his face pale as death, his teeth clenched in a grimace that lasted a long while.

He remained frozen in place, not daring to move. After the time it took to brew a cup of tea, he took a deep breath. The pain had dulled slightly.

His expression was grim. The corners of his mouth twitched.

He knew exactly why this was happening. It was the consequence of gulping down large quantities of aged medicinal herbs raw. Though he had absorbed some of their spiritual energy in time, far more had accumulated in his dantian as foreign matter—mixed with all sorts of other medicinal impurities. If not expelled soon, the consequences would be dire.

He knew this approach was unsustainable. Devouring herbs raw would inevitably backfire. But at the time, preserving his life had been the only priority. He had gambled on it. And indeed, this desperate method of forcibly extracting spiritual energy had kept him going through the prolonged fight.

But raw herbs alone would not have been enough to see him through to the end. Besides the fact that his mid-grade spirit stone replenished power faster than his opponent's, another key to his victory lay in his decision to cancel his defensive Water Shield technique.

During his dabbling in minor casting techniques over the past two years, Han Li had accidentally learned from Wu Feng that most low-level disciples shared a common misconception about talismans. They believed that aside from the tiny amount of spiritual power needed to activate one, talismans consumed none of the user's own mana. This was a mistake.

In truth, once a talisman was activated, the spell it unleashed remained connected to the caster through a thin thread of spiritual power, allowing the user to maintain control. As long as the spell persisted, the user would unconsciously drain mana to sustain that connection.

Because Qi Condensation disciples could neither see nor sense this thread, and the mana required to maintain it was negligible over short periods, most simply overlooked it. Thus the misconception persisted. Even those who knew the truth considered it trivial and never bothered to spread the word among low-level disciples. Wu Feng was one of the few who knew. He had mentioned it in passing during idle conversation, and Han Li had filed it away. Later, he tested it himself—and confirmed it was true.

So when Han Li realized this was going to be a prolonged battle, he immediately recalled that lesson and decisively dismissed his defensive spell. The mana saved might have seemed insignificant at first glance, but over time, the difference added up. "Senior Brother Lu," of course, was unaware of this. Being cautious by nature, he had maintained his Wind Wall technique throughout—a spell that only hastened his own undoing.

In the end, it was this tiny reserve of saved mana that allowed Han Li to outlast his opponent. Without these two advantages, victory might not have been certain.

Even so, Han Li knew how close he had come to death. He had thrown everything he had into the fight, and even then, he had barely managed to survive. His opponent's strength was truly above his own.

But in the end, he was the one still standing.

Once the pain had subsided a little more, Han Li could no longer contain himself. He shuffled slowly over to where the Cyan Flood Dragon Flag had fallen, crouched down with difficulty, and picked up the magic tool. He examined it with undisguised delight, turning it over several times before tucking it into his storage pouch.

Then he turned his attention to the corpse of "Senior Brother Lu." With a slight grimace at the grisly scene before him, he unsteadily began searching for spoils.

The man's storage pouch was easy enough to find—it was still attached to one half of the corpse.

Without ceremony, Han Li upended the pouch. Everything inside tumbled out in a heap. The cyan bottle and the box containing the Foundation Establishment Pills caught his eye immediately.

His heart leaped. Forgetting everything else, he bent down, grabbed the bottle and the box, and opened them on the spot. Inside each was a single azure pill. The scent was sharp, but the dense spiritual power contained within was unmistakable.

The smile on Han Li's face deepened. Now that he had confirmed the pills were genuine, he had no interest in examining the rest of the loot on the spot. This place had just seen a life-and-death battle—it was no place to linger. The better course was to flee immediately.

He swept everything back into the pouch with practiced speed, then carefully tucked "Senior Brother Lu's" storage pouch into his own robes. Only then did he feel slightly relieved. He straightened up, about to stretch his limbs.

But just then—a rustle of wind from behind. Something lunged at him.

Han Li's heart jolted. He tried to sidestep, but a fresh wave of pain erupted from his dantian, freezing his movement for a crucial instant. The next moment, he was caught in a tight embrace from behind—smooth, perfumed, unmistakably the body of a woman.

Stunned, Han Li struggled, but his dantian still ached and his limbs were weak from the recent battle. He could not break free.

Though he had already guessed who it was, he still turned his head to look. His face had barely moved halfway when a delicate, flushed visage pressed against his own, lips raining fervent kisses upon him. It was indeed the "Junior Sister Chen," who had been immobilized earlier.

Her face was flushed crimson now. Her eyes burned with the fire of lust. Her limbs clung to him like an octopus, her voluptuous body grinding against his back without pause. Muffled moans escaped her lips, thick with unbearable desire.

Earlier, though bound by the Wind Binding Technique, she had been completely untouched by the battle between Han Li and "Senior Brother Lu." The entire fight had carefully avoided the spot where she lay. At the battle's end, she remained completely unharmed.

But well before the fight began, the effects of the Harmony Elixir had already taken hold. Consumed by the flames of passion, her mind had long since clouded over, filled with nothing but hallucination and a single-minded craving for union. While the binding spell held, she was forced into stillness, suffering in silence. But deep inside, the thirst only grew more desperate.

The moment the Wind Binding Technique expired, her newly freed instincts drove her unthinkingly toward the only man in sight—Han Li. She threw herself at him, and now the scene unfolding was charged and explicit.

Han Li was a virgin in the truest sense. Under "Junior Sister Chen's" relentless assault, his heart stirred. A strange feeling rose within him. He had never claimed to be a puritan, nor did he see any virtue in feigned restraint. Somewhat aroused, he did not hesitate to wrap his arms around her naked body, his fingers roaming freely over her smooth, silk-like skin.

His response only drove "Junior Sister Chen" deeper into her frenzy. Though she had never known a man, pure instinct now drove her to tear at his clothing.

But her actions snapped Han Li back to his senses. He dared not let the game continue. In a swift motion, he produced a Spirit-Fixing Talisman from his hand and, barely mustering the faintest trace of his newly recovered mana, cast the immobilization technique, binding her once again.

With a gentle push, he freed himself from her embrace and laid her down on the ground.