The beam of light was the tiny fracture the Feather Gate Patriarch had torn open with the supreme power of the Vacuum Yin–Yang Dao—a sliver thin enough for one person to slip through. Only someone of his level, a true immortal patriarch and one of the Ten Great Daoist Sovereigns, could tear open the wards of the Taiyuan Immortal Mansion. Even so, he could not enter the main hall; all he could do was create this one fleeting chance for Fang Han.
But the mysterious man imprisoned within the Xuanpin Gate could not escape.
To free him would require the absolute might of Taiyi Sect's ancient giants, armed with supreme immortal artifacts—enough force to shatter the entire mansion. Such an action would almost certainly ignite a war between immortals and demons.
"Heaven and Earth—Split! Void—Shift!"
Fang Han seized the moment. The instant he plunged into the beam of light, he felt massive spatial storms battering the Five-Prisons King Cauldron, trying to freeze it in place and grind it into dust.
The cauldron was indeed an ultimate-grade treasure—but not a Dao Artifact. Prolonged exposure to space storms would still tear it apart. And Fang Han and the Witch sealed inside it would vanish along with it.
But Fang Han had already cultivated the Grand Severing Art to early minor completion. In that life-or-death instant, he unleashed the technique: threads of black cutting-lines spun around the cauldron, absorbing the chaotic force of the storms.
Training the Grand Severing Art required consuming raw spatial turbulence—something normally impossible without risking instant self-annihilation. But Fang Han had the World Tree in his brow, capable of harmonizing destructive energies before they devoured him. With that safeguard, he could devour the storms recklessly.
As he pushed through the collapsing void, the storms he consumed became pure severing power. The art sharpened rapidly, its black threads beginning to form the outlines of a true formation—sign of approaching mastery.
Then the storm intensified. A deafening roar shook the void.
"Yellow Springs Diagram!"
Fang Han reacted instantly. With perfect coordination, he and Yan unfurled the Yellow Springs Diagram around the cauldron, shielding it from the tearing winds as they blasted forward. Time lost all meaning—an eternity—or a heartbeat.
Then he sensed it: ahead was a corridor. And beyond it… outside.
He could see them—Fang Qingxue. Long Xuan. Jialan. The others. Real, alive, waiting.
"Fang Han's coming out! The Patriarch truly is unparalleled—he can even extract someone trapped inside the Taiyuan Mansion!" Fang Qingxue stood at the center of a formation the female true disciples had quietly arranged, clearly prepared for danger.
From the mansion's main gate, a vortex churned. Within it, a massive swirl of yellow cloud writhed like a trapped dragon—Fang Han driving the Yellow Springs Diagram to its utmost limit. One final misstep and he would be shredded and sealed forever inside the mansion.
"He's almost out!"
Jialan's eyes lit up as a great yellow cloud-dragon forced its head through the vortex. Ever since discovering Fang Han possessed a Dao Artifact, she knew she had wagered correctly. The Yellow Springs Diagram's water of oblivion could purify the impurities within her Golden Core—making her future tribulations far easier to survive.
Fang Han felt it too—only one final push. But the mansion had awakened a massive suction force, trying to drag him back into the abyss. Even with his enormous power—like fifty thousand furious warhorses—it was nothing compared to the Immortal Mansion itself.
Then the crack created by the Patriarch opened fully. The World Tree in his brow connected directly with the outside world, and a torrent of pure immortal qi crashed down on him. Every breath restored his depleted strength. Inside the mansion he had received a trickle—outside, it was a waterfall.
The greatest gift of the World Tree was this: his mana could never be exhausted.
A booming laugh echoed—
HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!
A monstrous power shattered the Return-to-Void passage. A colossal claw, blue-scaled and mountain-sized, ripped through the void and clamped toward Fang Han's exposed head.
A long-life realm giant had arrived.
Like a fish surfacing from water, Fang Han was about to be seized and carried away.
The claw dwarfed him completely. Even the Yellow Springs Diagram trembled, slipping from the vortex's pull and falling toward that demonic grasp.
"Nine Yang Demon God! You dare try to steal a disciple of my Feather Gate in front of me?!"
The Patriarch's voice rang out, cold and calm—as if he had anticipated this. His hand swept through the air, and an ancient weapon manifested: a long, primitive iron whip, heavy with primordial savagery and killing aura—the War God Whip.
With one swing, it cracked across the demon claw.
BOOM!
The massive claw exploded.
"The War God Whip! Feng Baiyu—you actually possess that weapon?!"
The Nine Yang Demon God's roar shook the heavens, filled with fury and surprise.
In that moment of chaos, Fang Han burst free. He soared upward, unleashing a roaring vortex of black wind and blazing fire. Space twisted and burned around him as the shredded demonic qi was driven back.
"Black Sun Tempest! Great Sun Fire Calamity!"
Jialan's jaw dropped.
"These are supreme Daoist arts—each requiring a century to cultivate. How in the world did Fang Han master them both—and with power rivaling Taiyi Sect's elite Golden Cores?!"