Beyond the Ten Great Immortal Sects, the Seven Demon Lineages, the Five Beast Clans, and the subterranean demon tribes, the world still teemed with countless independent cultivator sects. These were not mundane martial clans of the mortal world, but true cultivation factions. Fang Han understood this well—such sects were usually led by experts of the Spirit Transformation Realm. Rarely would a Longevity Realm master lower themselves to lead one.
After all, anyone who reached the Longevity Realm and founded a sect would stand on par with the immortal or demonic giants themselves.
Three thousand years ago, Taiyi Gate's Linglong ascended to the Longevity Realm and created the Linglong Blessed Land, transforming the Nine Immortal Gates into the current Ten.
Still, some of these independent sect masters were far from ordinary. They could merge myriad arts into one, forge divine power seeds into golden cores, and even withstand the tribulation of wind and fire—becoming entities capable of manifesting Heaven and Earth Dharmas.
Take, for example, the Young Lord of Sleepless Isle—whom Fang Han had defeated alongside Fang Qingxue. That island was an independent sect too. Its master, a Spirit Transformation expert, had sent his son to study at Yuhua Sect merely to earn protection and prestige, ensuring his isle wouldn't be devoured by rivals.
Conflict among these scattered sects was far bloodier than within the Ten Great Sects. Feuds, assassinations, and power struggles never ceased. Each sought rare resources, secret arts, and ultimately, a path to longevity. The great immortal sects, bound by treaties and rich in resources, seldom waged such chaos.
Across the mainland, the immortal sects' influence kept these rogues in check. But on the vast, lawless seas—where treasures and spirit herbs flourished—their number swelled. Out there, strength was law, and many were wild, violent, and unrestrained.
Without sect discipline or laws, rogue cultivators acted as they pleased—slaying, looting, and vanishing into mist without a trace. Out at sea, one had to guard not only against storms and beasts but against men.
"This stretch of coast is uninhabited—part of the Great Xu Dynasty's territory. There's a coral reef ahead. We might find blood corals that have matured over five centuries. They're key ingredients for the Essence Restoration Pill."
Long Xuan pointed forward, her voice steady as she descended. Fang Han followed her gaze and nodded.
"Essence Restoration Pills may not rival Blood Pills, but they're still excellent—good enough to replenish the energy of ten Asuras. Refining a batch will be useful."
They flew to the shallows, where the sea was only a few dozen fathoms deep. Beneath the clear, turquoise water lay glimmering sands, schools of multicolored fish, and lurking sea serpents whose scales shimmered with venomous beauty. Sharks glided between coral towers—a scene breathtaking and deadly.
For mortal divers, this would be suicide. But to Spirit Transformation cultivators, the sea posed little danger.
With a graceful motion, Long Xuan swept her hand. Waves parted beneath her will, revealing a gleaming forest of coral. Her gaze sharpened—then she snatched upward.
From the water rose a blood-red coral, the size of an ox horn, glowing as if molten from within. Its aura pulsed with life force so dense it nearly hummed.
"This is a five-hundred-year-old Blood Coral," Long Xuan said, admiring it. "Worn by mortals, it purifies the blood and extends lifespan. For us, ground into powder and tempered by true fire, it becomes a vital component for Essence Restoration Pills. In truth, all nine materials for that elixir can be found within the sea."
She searched a while longer but found no more of such quality. A faint sigh escaped her lips.
"This is only the shallows. Let's head deeper," Fang Han suggested. "The place we seek lies within the Returning Void. The creatures here are too weak—slaying them yields nothing but inferior Blood Pills."
"To reach the Returning Void will take ten days or more of flight," Long Xuan replied. "But the deeper we go, the stronger the life forms—and the rarer the treasures. I also hope to find the core of a Crystal Blood Serpent to refine into a Soft Water Pill and strengthen my Qi."
She raised her Chill Flood Sword, which dissolved into mist and enveloped her in flowing waterlight before propelling her toward the deep sea. Fang Han and the demoness followed.
After several hours of flight, the coastline vanished. The world became an endless expanse of rolling waves, stretching from horizon to horizon. There was no land in sight—only sky and sea.
Even for seasoned cultivators, such vast emptiness carried unease.
Soon, the sky darkened. Clouds gathered thick as iron plates, and the air grew heavy with pressure and salt.
"A storm's coming," Long Xuan warned. "Let's rest below. Flying through a tempest is taxing even for us, and if lightning strikes…"
With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a swirl of prismatic vapor. It unfurled upon the waves, condensing into a shimmering pavilion boat—the Cloudlight Barge. It gleamed with fragrance and soft radiance, like a drifting pleasure vessel of the mortal world.
Fang Han couldn't help but recall the flower boats along Dragon Abyss River, filled with courtesans and noble scions reveling under spring lanterns. Once, he had dreamed of joining their ranks. Now, he soared far beyond them.
Landing upon the Cloudlight Barge, he found it steady and firm, its condensed mist as solid as timber yet light as air. He silently marveled at Jialan's craftsmanship—this was indeed a spirit artifact, not for battle but for rest and comfort during long journeys.
The wind howled outside—whoo, whoo, whoo!—as waves rose higher and higher. The barge shimmered with protective glow, holding steady amidst the roiling sea.
"Hm?" Long Xuan's eyes narrowed. "There's a thick stench in this wind… Blood and venom! Our luck is extraordinary—there's a thousand-year-old Blackwater King Serpent undergoing transformation into a flood dragon!"
Fang Han's eyes snapped open. "A Blackwater King Serpent—transforming?"
The Blackwater King Serpent was an ancient sea species, immense and cunning. When blessed with rare fortune or fed on celestial herbs, it could evolve—its essence condensing, its lifespan stretching until, after a thousand years and countless molts, it shed its form and became a Jiao—a flood dragon.
A serpent becoming a Jiao was like a human reaching the Spirit Transformation Realm—the first true step toward divinity. A beast that gained divine powers became a demon, a being of terrifying might.
And the Blackwater King Serpent was among the most formidable. Its body was enormous, its strength unmatched. When it ascended, its power could rival ten—or even twenty—Spirit Transformation cultivators. Fang Han's own divine power equaled a hundred fierce stallions. A flood dragon's could reach one or two thousand.
Its flesh alone was nearly indestructible.
"Go! This is a heaven-sent opportunity!" Long Xuan's voice trembled with excitement. "If we slay it, its core will greatly enhance our cultivation. It's massive—far larger than my Chill Flood Dragon!"
She soared skyward, her sword gleaming like a comet.
Fang Han followed, scanning the horizon. In the distance, a column of water twisted skyward—a vast sea tornado roaring against the clouds. Within it writhed an enormous serpentine form, hundreds of meters long, scales flashing obsidian light. Its hissing roared through the storm, sharp and piercing, and the air reeked of primal power.
He summoned his Wood Sovereign True Qi, his body glowing green as he shot forward like a streak of lightning.
The Blackwater King Serpent—apex predator of the deep—was said to drive even whales and sharks to flee. Now, at the threshold of evolution, it was both vulnerable and dangerous.
Fang Han's mind raced. According to the "World Compendium," the serpent's core and blood are priceless. To find one mid-transformation—this fortune borders on divine favor.
Yet he knew the moment of transformation was also its weakness. Once complete, the flood dragon would plunge into the depths—strong enough to crush most Spirit Transformation cultivators with ease.
"Such luck!" the demoness hissed eagerly beside him.
Just then, a low whisper echoed in Fang Han's mind—Yan's voice.
"There are other cultivators nearby. Spirit Transformation experts. They're lying in ambush around the serpent… waiting for it to transform."
Before Fang Han could respond, Long Xuan's voice rang out through divine sense:
"I feel it too. The water's rhythm is disturbed. We're not the only hunters here."