Han Li Moved to Tears! Give Me the Ascension Token, You're Going to the Arena?

"Split up and run!"

The yellow-robed man and the burly man both roared out at almost the same time, instinctively fleeing in two completely opposite directions.

Han Li: "Now you know fear... try this—five shots at once!"

Han Li shouted from within the golden barrier. Back in Divine Hand Valley, limited by the lack of a follow-up cultivation technique, he had poured all his energy into mastering the few spells he had. His Fireball Technique was already second nature.

He raised his hand and aimed at the fleeing burly man. Five fist-sized fireballs instantly took shape, trailing long tails of flame as they howled through the air.

At the same time, Han Feng had silently unleashed the Soul Annihilation Technique.

An invisible, formless soul spike, far faster than the fireballs, shot out later but arrived first, instantly piercing into the back of the burly man's head.

The burly man's fleeing figure suddenly faltered, as if tripped by something, his movements freezing for a split second.

That brief pause cost him his life.

Three of the five fireballs Han Li had fired struck his back with precision.

"Boom!"

The flames exploded, instantly engulfing the burly man. He didn't even manage a scream before he was reduced to a charred lump in the blazing fire, finally crumbling into ash.

"This... I'm this strong now?"

Han Li, inside the barrier, stared at his handiwork, somewhat surprised. He hadn't expected his first real fight against a cultivator to end so cleanly.

Before he could dwell on it, the other battle was nearly over.

Han Feng's figure moved like a ghost. Using the Wind Control Art combined with mortal lightness techniques, he turned into a faint blur and had already caught up with the fleeing yellow-robed man.

"Spare me, fellow daoist!"

The yellow-robed man sensed the terrifying aura closing in from behind and was scared out of his wits.

Begging for mercy, he tried to summon his Black Gourd magic tool.

But he had no chance.

A Blood-colored Rainbow flashed by.

The yellow-robed man only felt a chill at his neck. His running motion stopped abruptly. His head shot into the air, and his headless body stumbled forward a few more steps before crashing heavily to the ground.

Han Feng retracted the Seven Profound Sword and walked over calmly.

Soon, he came back slowly, carrying the yellow-robed man's Storage Bag and the Black Gourd.

By then, Han Li had already dispelled the Diamond Talisman barrier and stood before the pile of human-shaped ash, his expression complicated.

"Brother Feng..."

"Brother Li, clean up the battlefield. Time to split the loot." Han Feng smiled and tossed the items onto the ground.

The two brothers began to tally their spoils.

The burly man had been burned too thoroughly by the Fireball Technique; even his Storage Bag was destroyed.

All that remained were a dozen or so Low-grade Spirit Stones, blackened with soot, and the Great Blade magic tool that had fallen to the ground.

Pills, ordinary books—everything had been incinerated without a trace.

From the yellow-robed man, they got the Black Gourd magic tool.

Han Feng briefly examined it. The tool required a short charge, after which it could continuously fire powerful black spheres in attack—a decent high-grade magic tool.

Besides that, there were a dozen spirit stones and a few bottles of pills.

But the richest haul came from Daoist Qingwen, the one Han Feng had killed first.

Han Feng emptied Daoist Qingwen's Storage Bag, and the contents piled up into a small mountain.

There were over a hundred spirit stones, along with various pills, talismans, and materials.

Han Feng sorted everything by type and then neatly divided it into two piles.

"Brother Li, half each."

Han Li looked at the pile of wealth far exceeding his own net worth and quickly waved his hands.

"No, no, Brother Feng. This time, it was all thanks to you. I did nothing—how can I take so much?"

"We both killed them. We both have a share." Han Feng pushed one pile in front of Han Li without room for argument. "We're brothers. Don't say things like that."

Han Li looked at Han Feng, a warm current flowing through his heart.

He didn't refuse again, silently storing this debt of gratitude in his heart.

Brother Feng truly treated him without reservation.

He had nothing good to offer now, but in the future, he would definitely cultivate more Thousand Year Spirit Medicine for Brother Feng—that was the only way he could repay him.

After dealing with the loot and cleaning up the traces at the scene, the two brothers found a secluded spot to rest.

"Brother Li, what are your plans from now on?"

"I think being a Rogue Cultivator isn't a long-term solution." Han Li sighed.

The experiences of these past days had made him deeply aware of the hardships of being a Rogue Cultivator.

"If I can't reach Foundation Establishment, I'll live only a few years longer than an ordinary mortal—a hundred and twenty at most.

Only by reaching Foundation Establishment can my lifespan be extended to two hundred years, truly stepping onto the path of immortality."

"The Ascension Convention gives each sect ten slots, but the arena... it's too hard to fight through."

A trace of gravity settled on Han Li's face.

From that Cultivator's Record, he had learned just how brutal the arena battles of the Ascension Convention could be.

At the last convention, it was said that even a peak expert at the Thirteenth Level of Qi Condensation had died in the arena—a bloody, savage affair.

Han Feng listened quietly.

Then, he took an ancient-looking token from his Storage Bag and casually tossed it to Han Li.