"This so-called good fortune of mine? A damaged Dao artifact. A World Tree… in fragments. And now I'm trapped in this Taiyuan Immortal Mansion, neither alive nor dead, with no idea when I'll ever escape. I can endure it—but the Witch's supplies have run dry. Give it a few more years and her fate will be grim…"
Hearing the mysterious man call him lucky, Fang Han could only shake his head.
The Witch was at the end of her strength. The Nascent Soul Pills, Life-Extending Golden Pills, and Blood Pills were gone. The hundred-thousand-plus Biluodan they'd brought still had some remaining—but nowhere near enough to last another decade.
The Six Yang Holy Water was down to a few precious drops.
Although Fang Han had the World Tree constantly feeding him pure celestial essence, the Witch had no such lifeline. In ten or twenty years, she would simply wither away. And who knew how long they would be trapped here—sixty years? A hundred? Three hundred? They might die of old age inside this sealed hall like the skeletal remains scattered around them.
"If I'd known this would happen, I should've stored more pills and clean water in the Yellow Springs Diagram. If the Witch truly can't hold on, I'll have no choice but to feed her my life force. Fortunately, when Hua Tiandu dragged Long Xuan away, it left us with one fewer mouth to feed."
Fang Han sighed, then crossed his legs and sat down again, channeling his energy. The sooner he reached the Human Immortal Realm, the sooner he could dissolve his Golden Core and cultivate all twenty-eight divine abilities.
The remaining divine corpse lay untouched. Absorbing it now wouldn't provide much benefit. Better to wait until after he mastered the twenty-eight arts—then, maybe, he could refine the corpse into a longevity elixir.
"Senior, how long before I can break through to the Human Immortal Realm?"
After a round of cultivation, Fang Han felt his vital energy brimming. He had merged the power he obtained from the gods and could faintly sense the Human Immortal boundary—but some barrier still held him in place.
"Five years at best, eight at worst," the mysterious man replied. "Your Evergreen Wood Emperor Technique has reached its peak. Grinding away like this won't get you through the barrier. You'd be better off cultivating another art. For instance—your Yama Body. That treasure physique is the foundation of all divine powers. Your body is still lacking and doesn't fully harmonize with your Wood Emperor energy."
His insight was razor-sharp—far beyond even Yan Luo's.
"Cultivate the Yama Body? But I need earth essence for that. There's no earth qi here. The only reason I can cultivate the Wood Emperor energy is because I have the World Tree."
"Use the World Tree to reach for it. If you can sense the earth, let the clash of wood and earth temper your body and energy. It may be just the breakthrough you need."
The man's guidance was so clear that Fang Han felt the fog in his mind lift.
"Very well. I'll try!"
He roused his blood and qi, activating the Yama Body, trying to sense the earth—trying to call the essence of the land itself.
A mantra rose from within him like distant chanting.
Through the World Tree, faint connections formed—vague whispers of earth essence in the unseen distance. But it slipped from his grasp again and again.
"Got it!"
He seized a wisp of earth essence as a starving tiger seizes prey. His spirit shot through the World Tree like a traveler moving through folded time and space.
The World Tree's roots pierced the sealed dimension of the hall, slipping into the outside world through impossible angles. Fang Han's consciousness followed—drifting, expanding—learning.
He dragged the thread of earth essence back through the roots and into himself. The moment it arrived, shimmering yellow qi wrapped around him like crystalline mist—pure Wutu essence.
Even the mysterious man couldn't help but exclaim, "The World Tree truly is a marvel."
Fang Han didn't hear him. He was devouring earth qi with the Yama Body, the rich density swelling around him more and more.
A year passed.
The earth essence cocooned him in a thick golden shell, as if he were a giant embryo incubating colossal strength.
Of the Five Elements, earth was the pivot—central, unmoving, the heaviest and most powerful.
He was preparing to forge the Earth Emperor Divine Art, one of the Five Imperial Demon Arts.
Two more years passed.
The earthen shell shone like solid gold, exuding the atmosphere of a mountain.
"It's time."
Once enough essence had been gathered, Fang Han inhaled sharply—and drew everything into his body. The earth essence collided violently with his Wood Emperor energy.
The explosion ripped through him.
Blood poured from his ears, eyes, and nose. His muscles trembled on the verge of rupturing. His bones crackled like firecrackers. Even his mind resounded with deafening blasts.
"What's happening!?"
The Witch jolted to her feet. From the outside, it looked like Fang Han was about to burst apart.
"Earth and Wood clashing. Dangerous, yes—but he may yet make it," the mysterious man murmured, watching intently. "Let's hope he breaks through."
The explosions suddenly halted.
Two streams of brilliance erupted from Fang Han's crown—one pure gold, one pure green—rushing down from above like descending rivers.
They washed the blood from his body until not a drop remained.
"Earth returns to the spleen… wood returns to the liver… the Five Organs, Five Elements… the Human Immortal formation…"
He chanted as the two energies twisted into swirling vortexes—miniature star-cloud formations—before sinking into his organs.
The Wood Emperor energy settled into his liver.
The Earth Emperor energy rooted itself in his spleen.
They had formed arrays.
In that instant, Fang Han shattered the barrier.
He stepped into the Human Immortal Realm—Divine Ability Fifth Level.
A realm where one could refine spiritual artifacts, forge treasures, and truly earn the title of Real Person.
His body surged with explosive strength. Shockwaves burst from every pore, turning his afterimages into blurs of motion. He moved like a sword streaking through the air—every step sending ripples of force through the massive hall.
This was the transformation of a Human Immortal—energy fusing directly with flesh, extending lifespan by eight hundred years.
But he soon felt something off—his Five Elements were imbalanced. Wood was overwhelming, fire insufficient, metal and water weak.
"Vermilion Bird Banner!"
At his command, the banner left by Firecloud Immortal rose into the air. Bathed in Yellow Springs Holy Water, its flames ignited again—roaring, twisting—and forming two regal figures wielding staffs.
The Fire Emperor.
The Red Emperor.
Fang Han had forced his way into cultivating the Fire Emperor Divine Art.
The fiery monarchs collapsed into a blazing array and sank into his heart. His heartbeat suddenly thundered like a war drum—each thump powerful enough to shatter steel.
"Excellent. Cultivating the Fire Emperor Art alone would've taken me sixty years. Absorbing the Vermilion Bird Banner saves me decades of work."
He murmured inwardly.
Then he took out his Golden Core.
It was finally time—
to dissolve it.