"Pure Yang Sacred Water" was something only experts of the Longevity Realm could refine—drawing pure, untainted yang essence from the Immortal World and tempering it into a liquid that could burn away all impurity, darkness, demonic energy, and yin corruption. It was priceless. Every single drop was a treasure.
Any artifact touched by Pure Yang Sacred Water, once properly refined, would transform into a Pure Yang artifact—radiant, sharp, and overwhelmingly powerful.
But a demonic treasure like the Five-Prison King Cauldron was another matter. Its demonic nature ran deep; if it were soaked in Pure Yang Sacred Water, the cauldron's demonic core would clash with the immortal yang, merging and neutralizing each other. Its arrays would shut down, its power would plummet—temporarily.
Yet this "collapse" was the precursor to rebirth. If a Longevity-Realm cultivator seized it afterward and reforged it, the cauldron would shed its demonic skin and transform into a Pure Yang Dao-Artifact, gaining fearsome power.
This process was called Enlightened Transmutation.
But transmuting something as powerful as the Five-Prison King Cauldron required an absurd amount of Pure Yang Sacred Water. Even core disciples of the great sects—like Yao Dian of the Taiyi Sect, who had already reached the Yin-Yang Realm—could only obtain a single gourd of the lesser Six-Yang Sacred Water. As for Nine-Yang Sacred Water? Impossible.
And yet the Seven-Leaf Demon Lord casually produced an entire bowlful—clearly a spatial treasure like the Hundred-Treasure Pouch that could hold far more inside than its appearance suggested.
He tilted the bowl.
And the Sacred Water poured.
A shimmering cascade of multi-colored flame-liquid washed over the Five-Prison King Cauldron, soaking in as though the supply were endless.
Any immortal sect would have fought wars over a single drop—and here, it rained like a waterfall.
Hissssss— crackle, crackle…
Pure Yang Sacred Water lived up to its reputation. As soon as it seeped into the cauldron's protective arrays, Fang Han felt the change. The cauldron's Blood-Shatter Demonic Light weakened. The once ruby-crystal surface flickered with distorted colors, trembling on the verge of collapse.
"Hmph! I know this cauldron's nature well. Its Blood-Shatter, Blood-Light, and Blood-God Arrays are fierce—if filled with pills, it'd take me a year to break. But with Pure Yang Sacred Water suppressing its demonic nature, you never stood a chance!"
Seven-Leaf Demon Lord's cold voice pierced through the cauldron walls, trying to erode Fang Han's will.
But inside, Fang Han looked nothing like someone losing hope.
Especially not Yan.
The artifact spirit burst into manic laughter, slapping its dragon head. "Pure Yang Sacred Water! The treasure I've dreamed of! With this, I can recover my true power! Restore my abilities! Even unleash the full might of the Yellow Springs Diagram! This fool is courting his own destruction! Fang Han, with enough Sacred Water, you can break open the World Tree fragment and grow a true sapling—your Wood Emperor Gang-Qi will reach unprecedented levels!"
"Let me try!"
Fang Han focused his qi to block the Sacred Water's invasion.
But the moment his Gang-Qi touched the liquid, it ignited. Flames raced along his qi threads, licking across his skin. A faint sheath of fire rose around him—threatening to refine his very body.
This Sacred Water was too violent, too pure, too absolute.
Untouchable.
Yan acted instantly, flinging out streams of Forget-Love Water that wrapped Fang Han's body, extinguishing the yang flames.
"You'll die if you try that again! Every drop is equal to a Pure Yang artifact. Even Divine Ability experts refine it only after neutralizing its heat with other medicines. Swallowing it raw is suicide! That's the Eighth Divine Tribulation's Fire Calamity condensed into liquid form! Only Forget-Love Water can restrain it. Watch me—I'll take the Sacred Water and turn it into nourishment!"
With a roar, Yan chanted a string of eerie syllables. Forget-Love Water turned into mist, drifting outward to intercept the Sacred Water.
One drop…
Two drops…
Then dozens.
Each drop floated in, and Yan sucked them in greedily. His serpentine body expanded like an inflating bellows, scales brightening, eyes glowing with new vitality.
"More! Channel the rest toward you—I'll stabilize it! Use it to temper the World Tree fragment! Of everything you possess, only that fragment has limitless potential. Don't even think of merging it into your qi yet—you'll set yourself on fire."
"Fine!"
Fang Han summoned the fragment of the World Tree.
He let a drop fall onto it.
Instantly, the tiny bud that had refused to grow suddenly swelled. Another drop—another surge. The fragment sprouted roots and shoots, transforming moment by moment.
And thus, while Seven-Leaf Demon Lord poured down Sacred Water—
Yan stole it.
Again and again.
"Hm?"
Outside, the Demon Lord frowned mid-chant. Something felt… off. But he couldn't detect a flaw.
"Has the Sacred Water fused too quickly with the demonic nature? No matter. I must not hesitate. Refine him in one sweep! If I can't handle a mere immortal-path disciple, how will I stand among the Heaven Demons?"
He pushed harder.
More Sacred Water poured in.
Which meant—
More was stolen by Yan.
Yan benefitted the most—using the pure yang essence to restore his former strength. Fang Han, however, could not use yang essence to break into the Yin-Yang Realm. That breakthrough required understanding. Insight. Transformation of the soul. No amount of external force could substitute.
But Yan was different—he had once reached that height.
And now he was rapidly climbing back.
As time passed, drop after priceless drop vanished.
Fang Han sat cross-legged, the World Tree fragment floating above his head. Every drop absorbed by the fragment released a breath of ancient, primordial wood qi—neither green nor earthly, but the raw essence of all wood under heaven.
He inhaled.
His Gang-Qi stirred, stretching, thickening, brightening.
Hours passed.
His Wood Emperor Gang-Qi refined itself again and again, each strand sharpening into something beyond the original technique—stronger, richer, bursting with life.
The fragment grew.
First buds.
Then shoots.
Then full branches, sprouting leaves that shimmered with rune-like patterns—each leaf unique, like a page of celestial scripture.
Then crack—
The fragment shed entirely.
A sapling was born.
Its roots pierced the void itself, drawing nourishment from beyond the cauldron.
And then—
CRACK!
A root tore through space.
Outside, above the bowl of Sacred Water, the air split. A tendril of the newborn World Tree punched through reality and plunged straight into the bowl.
Sacred Water vanished in torrents.
"What—?!"
Seven-Leaf Demon Lord leapt to his feet, utterly horrified.
Something impossibly ancient, impossibly powerful… was growing inside his trap.
He had no idea—
He was nurturing the birth of a miracle.