No one had expected it. With a single exchange—barely even a full clash—Fang Han had subdued all six of Taixuan Sect's famed Realmen, sealed them, and crushed their resistance so completely they hadn't even managed to lift a hand. Even Zhao Xuanyi and Song Weiyi—both Golden Core experts at the seventh realm—had been caught entirely off guard.
Of course, that was partly because Zhao Xuanyi and Song Weiyi had focused most of their attention on Hua Tiandu's confrontation along the Void-Returning Passage. Had they been watching the six Realmen from the start, Fang Han would never have succeeded so easily. But how could they have known Fang Han carried someone like Yan within him—a Heaven-Man realm existence? They believed the six Realmen were more than enough. Instead, one bad call had cost them everything. The humiliation was total.
While Fang Han moved against the six Realmen, Hua Tiandu, guarding the passage, was simultaneously clashing with the Demon Commander and Fang Qingxue.
A storm of lightning crashed toward him—Fang Qingxue's power was terrifying. A single strike from her could shatter a mountain. Yet when her lightning exploded around Hua Tiandu, it stopped short, blocked by an invisible field of force. No matter how fiercely the thunder rolled, it could not pierce through.
The Demon Commander unleashed his full might as well. His fingers flicked—and countless demonic shadows lunged forward. The innate Bone Relic ignited, filling the sky with blossoming white lotus flowers wrought from bone. Seated atop each lotus was a skeletal demon god, chanting curses composed not of sound but of malice—pure resentment, killing intent, twisted magic, and every kind of negative qi imaginable.
"Ghost-Wrath Curse!"
Hua Tiandu's eyes burst with crystalline brilliance that shot across a hundred yards. His power surged upward, layer upon layer. Rings of icy qi swept outward, blocking the thunder and plunging into the bone lotuses—shattering several in an instant.
It was the Heavenly Cold Darkforce—Tianhan Xuanyin Jin.
He was fighting one against two—and didn't budge an inch. He kept the Void-Returning Passage sealed, blocking Fang Qingxue and the Demon Commander so thoroughly they couldn't advance a single step.
But then, in the brief instant between exchanges, Fang Han's voice rang out.
The moment Hua Tiandu heard the words, he froze. Fang Qingxue and the Demon Commander also turned their heads. All three stopped at once—stunned.
None of them had expected Fang Han to subdue six Realmen… in the time it took them to trade barely a single round.
It was simply too fast.
Their side had only just begun fighting.
Fang Han's side had already decided victory—crushing victory at that.
Fang Qingxue withdrew the lightning, unable to suppress her amazement.
The Demon Commander let his bone lotuses fade. Even he, with all his brutality, doubted he could capture six Realmen in one move. Yet Fang Han—still merely at the Qi-Gale realm—had done it.
"Impossible…"
"Too strong!"
"The six Realmen of Taixuan—each one a renowned master. They've dominated the world for decades, yet they were captured like chickens."
"Taixuan Sect is in a bind now."
"Maybe not. Fang Han wouldn't dare kill Taixuan's disciples—especially Realmen."
"Maybe, maybe not. He's reckless enough to challenge Hua Tiandu even before he cultivated divine abilities. He fears nothing."
"That's true… There are always madmen like Linglong from years past."
"Let's see how Taixuan responds!"
Disciples from various sects—Sun-Moon Sword Sect, Wan'gui Immortal Island, Danding Sword Sect, One-Origin Sect—were shocked, thrilled, or worried. Whispers filled the air.
Seeing the shock ripple through the entire field, Fang Han smiled with satisfaction. He turned to Hua Tiandu, Zhao Xuanyi, and Song Weiyi.
"Hua Tiandu—you told them to capture me. But now the tables have turned. I've captured them. So tell me—what will you do next? Their lives are in my hands. Zhao Xuanyi, Song Weiyi—two honored seniors. Our 'sparring session' seems to have ended with me ahead, doesn't it?"
Calling it sparring—Fang Han had chosen his words carefully.
"Release the six Realmen," Hua Tiandu said coldly. "You've already violated our sect's commandments."
"Oh?" Fang Han laughed. "What rule says we must stand still and get beaten? Did you write that one yourself?"
"If you refuse, you're destroying unity within the Immortal Dao. Don't think I won't act. You swore to defeat me within ten years, so I won't kill you—but you used a demonic cauldron against fellow disciples. That I cannot tolerate. Hand over the Five-Prisons King Cauldron before you cause more harm."
His expression was blank, but anyone could feel the killing intent beneath.
"Try it," Fang Qingxue cut in. "The Five-Prisons Cauldron was won by Fang Han through battle. You took my Seven-Shades Gourd and I didn't say a word. And now you want this too? Try asking me whether I agree."
"You think I covet it?" Hua Tiandu retorted. "I reforged the Seven-Shades Gourd and gave it to your sister. You have no grounds to accuse me. Fang Han—I will ask you one final time. Will you release them?"
Fang Han's face twisted into a feral grin.
"Do you think I'm still the nobody from a year ago? Make one move, Hua Tiandu—and I'll kill them right now. Believe me or don't. Try me and see."
"…Very well."
BOOOOM.
Hua Tiandu moved.
A towering phantom erupted from above his head—clad in robes embroidered with moons, stars, mountains, and rivers. Stranger still: it had nine arms and five heads. It stood atop a colossal turtle and an enormous fish, each of its nine hands holding a different weapon—blade, sword, bow, spear, hammer, fork, bottle, rope, staff.
All five faces were identical to Hua Tiandu's—yet each carried a different expression: calm, stern, wrathful, indifferent… and each mouth chanted simultaneously.
"The Heaven-and-Earth Dharmic Form."
A technique only achievable at the ninth realm of divine abilities.
Sevenfold divine ability was the Golden Core.
Eightfold was the Wind-Fire Tribulation.
Only after enduring that tribulation could one forge this form—melding one's power, qi, and spirit into a living manifestation of heaven and earth itself.
Each practitioner's manifestation was unique.
Once formed, the Heaven-and-Earth Dharmic Form could expand or contract at will, travel freely beyond the atmosphere, and fight independent of the physical body. It was a cultivator's true divine self.
And Hua Tiandu had unleashed his.
The colossal form soared upward—and one massive hand swept across the sky, blotting out the light. Wind and cloud tore apart as the hand descended toward Fang Han.