Chapter 667: Fire-Year Fireflies

The white-robed young man smiled slightly in the face of Yan Ziyan's renewed fierce onslaught, then suddenly raised his hand and cast several spell seals in quick succession, which vanished into the surrounding void in a flash.

In the next moment, within the yellow spiritual domain he had released, numerous wheel-sized discs of light materialized, spinning incessantly and continuously weakening the sound wave attacks from the purple-winged bats. However, layers of wrinkles still appeared on his extremely high-grade white dharma robe.

After a sustained period, a tearing sound came, and countless tiny rents opened on his dharma robe. The discs of light also began to collapse one after another.

At the same time, the palace ruins beside and behind the white-robed young man trembled violently under the sound waves, soon turning into fine dust that rose like smoke and scattered everywhere.

Seeing this, Yan Ziyan's eyes showed a hint of joy. She quickly muttered incantations and her hands flew over the pipa in her hands.

A fierce glint flashed in the purple-winged bat's eyes. It suddenly spread its wings, transformed into a streak of purple light, and charged straight at the white-robed young man.

"Hmph, since you refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit, don't blame me for being ruthless!" The white-robed young man glanced down at his tattered robe, a flicker of anger in his eyes, and shouted.

With that, he twisted his wrist. A flash of spiritual light appeared before him, and a six-foot-long giant iron fan materialized, inscribed with circles of complex and obscure yellow runes, from which emanated a strong aura of earth-attribute laws.

He formed a hand seal with one hand, and the iron fan before him clattered open. On the huge fan surface, the image of a yellow-furred wind-roaring beast glowed brightly, as if coming to life, leaping out. It opened its massive mouth, and a tornado carrying rolling yellow sand shot out.

"Boom, boom, boom..."

A series of violent sounds rang out. The yellow sand tornado swept through, directly smashing the purple-winged bat, which had just charged to its front, into pieces.

Meanwhile, Yan Ziyan, holding the pipa, felt her whole body sluggish and unable to dodge. The yellow sand tornado slammed into her, sending her flying backward. With a "bang," she crashed into the door of the "Flowing Fire Palace" behind her and fell inside.

"Tsk, tsk, I was too heavy-handed. I hope I didn't ruin that face..." The white-robed young man let out an "ouch" and quickly put away the iron fan, hurrying forward with concern.

But before he could reach the palace gate, a faint, dense sound reached his ears, like countless beetles fluttering their wings simultaneously.

Then, Yan Ziyan's startled cry came from inside the hall: "No! What is this..."

As her voice fell, her figure shot out from the hall. She flew a hundred zhang into the air before falling heavily, crashing to the ground with a "bang."

Seeing this, the white-robed young man was momentarily stunned. Then he focused his eyes on her and gasped sharply.

A large swarm of rice-grain-sized, dark red insects, their bodies burning with tiny red flames, were crawling densely all over Yan Ziyan.

Her face twisted in pain as she rolled wildly on the ground, letting out hoarse moans. Her body was enveloped in a layer of pale golden mist under the scorching flames. On her once radiant face, fine wrinkles began to appear visibly, and the black hair at her temples started to turn white.

What on earth were these things? They seemed capable of burning her vital essence?

After all, even Golden Immortal cultivators, though still unable to avoid decline tribulations, had nearly infinite lifespans otherwise. How could these strange insects possess such heaven-defying ability?

The white-robed young man's face turned extremely ugly. His heart was filled with utmost terror. He spun around, intending to flee this place at all costs.

But at that moment, a sudden change occurred!

A massive figure descended from the sky like an iron tower. A fiery red spiritual domain immediately enveloped the surroundings, trapping him as well.

The white-robed young man looked sideways and saw that the man had an unusual appearance: fiery hair on his head, a nose like a rhinoceros horn, and two large gold rings hanging from his pointed ears. His expression was cold, with a hint of disdain in his eyes.

This fiery-haired alien was none other than Chi Rong.

Sensing the powerful aura Chi Rong deliberately released, the white-robed young man's heart sank halfway. He was actually a late-stage Taiyi cultivator.

"A mere Golden Immortal dares to covet my master's nurtured Fire-Year Fireflies? Let me see how long your lifespan can sustain their burning," Chi Rong sneered.

"Wh... what? Such a thing actually exists?"

Hearing the words "Fire-Year Fireflies," the white-robed young man froze, suddenly recalling a long-circulated rumor in the True Immortal Realm.

Legendary Fire-Year Fireflies were a very peculiar type of spirit insect. Though they resembled ordinary fireflies, the flames on their bodies were flames of time containing some strange law of time. When encountering flesh-and-blood beings, they could burn their lifespans to gain energy for reproduction. Wherever they passed, living beings often vanished, making them extremely ferocious.

However, their own lifespans were extremely short, often only about a month. Without living beings to burn, they could not reproduce continuously and would eventually become extinct. Thus, they were not widely known in the world.

Nevertheless, it was said that some cultivators skilled in insect-controlling arts could freeze them using time treasures or special restrictions for long-term preservation, releasing them when needed.

Clearly, the Flowing Fire Palace originally had such restrictions. His fight with Yan Ziyan had damaged the restrictions, releasing these creatures.

Cold sweat broke out on the white-robed young man's back. As he pondered how to escape, he saw the alien man's gaze shift and fix on him.

Knowing something was wrong, he dared not hesitate any longer. He formed hand seals with both hands, yellow light flared around him, and a earth-yellow vortex appeared beneath his feet. With a spin, it swallowed him, and his figure vanished.

However, just a few breaths later, a yellow halo reappeared on the ground several hundred zhang away. The white-robed young man's figure was firmly gripped by a fiery hand extending from the crimson spiritual domain, pulled out from underground.

"Heh, since you're here, don't think about leaving." Chi Rong chuckled lightly, raised his hand, and pressed heavily on the ground.

The fiery hand grabbed the white-robed young man and pinned him firmly to the ground.

Then, Chi Rong unhurriedly took out a dark red short flute from his bosom. It was covered in black spots, looking like an old blowpipe.

But when Chi Rong pressed the holes on it and began to play, a series of ancient and desolate sounds drifted out.

As the sound rose, the buzzing inside the Flowing Fire Palace grew louder. Thousands of Fire-Year Fireflies awakened from their frozen state, fluttering their wings and flying out, pouncing on the white-robed young man.

For a moment, screams once again echoed across the sky.

Chi Rong did not look at the white-robed young man or Yan Ziyan again. Instead, he strode toward the other side of the square.

There stood a relatively well-preserved alien statue with few signs of damage.

Its hands and feet were as large as palm-leaf fans, flames-like hair on its head, bare upper body, and skin inscribed with circles of strange patterns.

"Disciple took the liberty of coming here to collect the Fire-Year Fireflies. Please do not blame me, Master... Those who trespassed into my Flowing Fire Palace have been executed." Chi Rong walked up to the statue, bowed solemnly, and murmured.

...

Ten-plus days later.

Above a forest in the True Word Sect ruins, a green figure rode a jade flying carriage, speeding through the air. His face was pale, his features ordinary—it was Han Li, who had changed his appearance and assumed the identity of Li Jiangliu.

During this time, he had continued forward from behind the huge pond, encountering only scattered remnants of ruins along the way. He had not encountered any danger nor found any treasures, traveling peacefully to this place.

On the flying carriage, he gazed into the distance, suddenly frowned, changed his hand seal, and guided the carriage down to the ground.

After landing, Han Li put away the carriage and walked along a path paved with green stone slabs through the forest. Soon, he came to a huge suspended arch bridge.

The bridge's main structure was wood and stone, over thirty zhang wide, with both green stone steps and flat carriage lanes. At each end of the bridge stood a gray-white stone lion as guardian spirit beasts.

Han Li stepped forward, raised his hand, and touched one of the stone lions, which was much taller than himself, confirming it was just an ordinary guardian stone beast with no spiritual power fluctuations.

He narrowed his eyes, hesitated for a moment, then slowly stepped onto the stone steps, walking up the bridge one step at a time.

When he was almost at the center of the arch bridge, he suddenly stopped and did not proceed further.

Because the bridge deck ended there. Beyond was a massive spatial rift thousands of zhang long, pitch black with no light, only strong spatial fluctuations emanating continuously.

The other half of the arch bridge seemed to have been swallowed by the spatial rift.

Besides this huge spatial rift, numerous dense smaller rifts were scattered around. Though they did not completely block Han Li's path, he dared not recklessly cross through them.

Han Li narrowed his eyes, staring into the black space within the rift, but found it utterly void, seeing nothing. Staring for too long even gave him a sense of fear, as if he might be swallowed into it.

He slowly withdrew his gaze and looked to both sides of the bridge. He saw that the area stretching thousands of zhang on either side was almost the same. Whether towering ancient trees or pavilions and towers, they had all been neatly cut in half.

Some still stood stubbornly like this half-arch bridge, while others had already collapsed into ruins.

All of this seemed quite eerie.