Yao Dian was a true disciple of the Taiyi Sect — the foremost Daoist school in the world. His mastery of arcane arts and divine power was so profound that Fang Han stood no chance against him.
Yao Dian had already reached the Yin-Yang Realm, the fourth level of divine transformation. His True Qi had evolved into Gang Qi— imbued with spirituality, endlessly mutable, and incomparably refined. Even in raw strength, his power was at least twice Fang Han's. By estimation, his force was equivalent to over five thousand galloping spirit-horses.
For reference, a cultivator who first stepped into the Divine Ability Realm typically possessed a power between eighty and two hundred horses.
When one refined True Qi, that number rose to three or even seven hundred.
With Gang Qi, it surged between one and three thousand.
And after entering the Yin-Yang Realm, one wielded no less than five thousand horses' worth of force — at its peak, ten thousand. Such a master could destroy cities, stir rivers, or move buildings with a mere thought.
Fang Han's current strength barely surpassed two thousand horses — far below Yao Dian. Under normal circumstances, he would be instantly crushed or captured. But he had one advantage: the Five Prisons King Cauldron. Having refined this demonic treasure, Fang Han could use it to shield his body. Even before launching his strike, he had hidden the cauldron with a concealment talisman, retreating into it the moment combat began.
"Get in! We'll combine our strength and use the cauldron's power to break free!"
As soon as he slipped into the cauldron, his thought echoed in the minds of Long Xuan and the Demoness.
At their level, mental communication came naturally. The two women instantly understood, channeling their power as they too entered the cauldron.
"Cold Flood Dragon Transformation! Frostbolt Thunder!"
Just before retreating, Long Xuan brandished her Cold Flood Dragon Sword, unleashing dozens of icy thunderbolts toward the massive white lion hovering in the air.
Moments earlier, Fang Han's condensed Heavenly Wood Divine Needle — a sharp strike of True Qi — had been swallowed whole by that very lion, a manifestation of Yao Dian's Gang Qi. If Fang Han failed to reclaim it, he would suffer a severe loss of essence that would take years to recover.
Long Xuan understood this well. Her attack was meant to shatter the lion and help Fang Han recover his True Qi.
"Trying to retrieve your energy?" Yao Dian sneered. The white lion opened its jaws again, releasing a powerful current that swallowed all the Frostbolt Thunderbolts. Long Xuan's face paled as her control over them vanished — they were devoured, utterly nullified.
At the Yin-Yang Realm, Gang Qi could take on sentient forms. Fang Qingxue's Twin Serpents of Yin and Yang Lightning were such examples. Yao Dian's manifestation, however, was a white celestial lion — fierce enough to devour heaven and earth. It was a unique Taiyi Sect divine art known as the Heavenly Lion Technique.
It was said that a Taiyi elder once used this very technique to swallow an army of a hundred thousand men whole.
Then came the roar — "Wu! Gu! Ba! Ma! Hong! Ya! Su! Po!"
Eight thunderous syllables tore through the air, coalescing into eight azure dragon shapes that pursued the lion relentlessly.
The Eight Heavenly Dragon Tones!
These dragon-shapes were not true spirits but sonic manifestations condensed from Fang Han's Qi. Hidden within them, however, was a faint trace of yellow vapor — the essence of Water of Forgetfulness.
"Eight Dragon Tones? Trying to break my Heavenly Lion Technique? Foolish." Yao Dian's eyes flashed coldly. "Stay back, all of you. I'll deal with them myself."
The surrounding disciples immediately obeyed, retreating in silence. Even the two other true disciples folded their arms and watched from the sky — dignified, detached, and proud, as befitted members of the world's foremost Daoist sect.
"Heavenly Lion—open your jaws! Swallow mountains and rivers!"
Yao Dian's white aura flared as he poured more Gang Qi into the lion. The creature swelled into a towering beast the size of a small hill, its gaping maw sucking in the eight dragon-shapes before lunging toward the Five Prisons King Cauldron.
The cauldron was massive — as large as a house — yet the lion's mouth could engulf it whole. Its power was truly mountain-crushing, river-swallowing.
"Courting death!"
From within the Yellow Springs Diagram, Yan's voice rang out as the Water of Forgetfulness hidden in the dragon tones suddenly surged.
"What—?!"
The moment the water entered the lion's belly, it intertwined with the Gang Qi, corroding it like acid on flesh. Smoke rose, sizzling sounds filled the air, and waves of pain shot through Yao Dian's mind. Since the lion was an extension of his Gang Qi, every wound it suffered was his own.
His Qi was collapsing from within. The majestic lion roared in agony as its body split apart.
"Five Prisons King Cauldron—Break!"
Seeing the opening, Fang Han unleashed the cauldron's power. Fiery arrays flared to life, releasing spherical bursts of flame that resembled spiked chestnuts. Each detonation ripped through the lion's essence, scattering its milky-white Qi across the sky.
This was one of the cauldron's many arrays — the Five Fires Divine Thunder Formation — capable of refining even diamond-hard ores into vapor or annihilating enemies outright.
The Five Prisons King Cauldron contained 999 such formations, each with immense power. Though Fang Han had refined them, his current strength was insufficient to command them all. Fully activating the cauldron would require the might of ten thousand horses, far beyond his reach.
For now, one formation would suffice.
The flaming explosions expanded, tearing the celestial lion apart. Yao Dian staggered, blood spurting from his mouth. He had been ambushed, outplayed — utterly humiliated.
"Strike!"
Seizing the moment, Fang Han shifted the cauldron's array again. The enormous vessel whirled at high speed, generating thunderous sonic booms as it rammed toward Yao Dian — the proud true disciple of Taiyi Sect.