"Heavenly Gang Death Palm? That's the same art the Island Lord used against me — the power was immense. Unfortunately, I can't practice any other divine techniques before reaching the Heaven–Human Realm. Otherwise, the clash of different true qi would kill me instantly."
As Fang Han examined the dark magic tome, he recalled the terrifying strike that once shattered his defenses — the palm condensed from pure gang qi, its three fingers embodying Death, Ruin, and Despair. Even his Wood Emperor True Qi couldn't withstand it.
"You can't cultivate its qi, but you can study the technique," Yan reminded. "Its true essence lies in how the energy is condensed. The forms and gestures might still inspire you."
Fang Han nodded. "I know. Still, that Island Lord didn't have much — all his treasures were mere spirit artifacts, not a single true treasure among them."
In truth, he was overjoyed. With those ten gourds of elixirs, he no longer had to exhaust himself refining Blood Pills. He could finally focus entirely on cultivation without worrying about food or energy.
For a cultivator, elixirs are as essential as harvests to a farmer — endless toil until self-sufficiency. Only after reaching the Longevity Secret Realm could one absorb the essence of heaven and earth directly — becoming a "breather of qi, undying in spirit."
"True treasures are rare," Yan said. "For a lone wanderer, collecting this many spirit tools is already impressive. Especially those thirty-six flying swords — each refined with death qi. If he'd managed to forge the Heavenly Death Formation Diagram, he could've multiplied his power tenfold. I bet he hunted that Blackwater King Serpent for its skin, to refine that very diagram."
"How does one forge it?" Fang Han's curiosity stirred as his mind delved deeper into the Five Prisons King Cauldron.
"That requires the Heaven–Human Realm. The formation involves thousands of smaller arrays and the sacrifice of powerful demons. You need to reach that realm quickly."
"How long would it take me to reach it?"
"Fifty to sixty years."
"So long?"
"That's already fast — extraordinary progress. Someone like Cang Baizi wouldn't reach it in two hundred. But with the Five Prisons King Cauldron and the right materials..." Yan rattled off hundreds of earthen herbs and minerals. "Use the Forget Emotion Water to brew them, and you can refine the Yama Body again. Once it reaches the 'Earth-Treasury' stage — when your body merges with the land itself — your cultivation speed will soar. You could reach the Heaven–Human Realm within ten years."
"Ten years is still too long. Hua Tiandu reached it long ago." Fang Han paused, then asked Long Xuan, "Do you know his current level?"
She thought for a moment. "No one can see through Hua Tiandu. But even a century ago, he survived the Wind–Fire Tribulation and reached the Heaven and Earth Dharmic Form stage. By now, he's probably advanced further — perhaps the Tenth Realm, Defying Heaven and Changing Fate."
"The Tenth Realm!" Fang Han's heart clenched. He turned inwardly to Yan. "Then when could I ever reach the Longevity Realm?"
Yan fell silent for a long time before answering, "If all goes perfectly — about three thousand years. But you won't live that long. So, in truth, probably never. Even Hua Tiandu may never cross that threshold. Defying Heaven and Changing Fate — do you think fate yields so easily?"
Fang Han felt the weight of that invisible barrier — the Longevity Realm, vast and unreachable. He said no more, pouring all his power into refining the cauldron.
The Five Prisons King Cauldron began to hum, spinning as waves of energy erupted. The deeper his mind penetrated, the more complex the arrays became — layer upon layer, endless as a labyrinth.
Even as a True Disciple of Yuhua Sect, familiar with countless arrays and treasures, Fang Han had never seen anything like it.
"Even the Island Lord couldn't fully master it," Yan muttered in awe. "What a formidable cauldron!"
Indeed, the man had only refined the most basic formations. Without the Forget Emotion Water's power to dissolve spiritual seals, Fang Han could never have broken through.
"How many formations does this thing contain?"
Guided by the water's mist, his true qi pierced through one level after another — each like a grand palace of light.
"Yan! Help me!"
At his call, Yan surged forth in a wave of black water, merging with his true qi. Together they swept forward like an unstoppable flood — until finally, they reached the core.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine great formations.
All subdued. All branded with Fang Han's mark.
"This is insane," Yan gasped. "Just one more — one final core array — and it could evolve into a Dao Artifact! But that last one requires a Longevity master to forge. Still, even now, this cauldron is a supreme treasure — the king among magical tools! With it, your power increases tenfold. Even Fang Qingxue might not easily kill you now."
"The more arrays a treasure holds, the stronger it becomes," Yan continued, "but the harder it is for the material to endure. For example, the Demon-Slaying Blade can barely hold one power-enhancing array — add another, and it would collapse. But this cauldron bears nine hundred and ninety-nine!"
Just as Fang Han gained full control of the Five Prisons King Cauldron, the horizon split with light.
Far away, several streaks of sword-light burst across the sea — fast and fierce, each as sharp as lightning, their aura no weaker than that of Shi Longzi, the swordsman who once killed with a thought.