A green light suddenly rose from the Suanni's body. Within it was a tiny figure, its features identical to those of the long-haired, black-robed cultivator—it was precisely that black-robed cultivator's soul.
Just as he was about to flee, Yan Chihuo, having long been prepared, flicked his sword threads around and trapped him within. Dense Sword Qi radiated from the threads, and the black-robed cultivator's soul did not dare make any rash move. It halted in midair, tightly bound by the sword threads.
With a backhanded gesture, Yan Chihuo seized the black-robed cultivator's soul in his hand. He then took out a jade bottle, placed the soul inside, stoppered it, and affixed two Talismans to it.
Having finished all this, Yan Chihuo raised his head and looked again at the cultivator surnamed Huang. The latter revealed a fawning smile, bowed and scraped, and said, "Fellow Daoist, whatever you need, just give the word."
Yan Chihuo sneered. The Seven Absolutes Cold Mist Sword rose into the air and transformed once more into a thread of sword light, slashing toward the cultivator surnamed Huang. Greatly alarmed, the man dodged while crying, "Fellow Daoist, show mercy! Whatever it is, we can discuss it!"
But how could Yan Chihuo possibly let him go? After several successive strikes, the cultivator surnamed Huang was thrown into a flurry. One moment of carelessness was enough for Yan Chihuo's sword thread to cut him in two.
The cultivator surnamed Huang likewise prepared to let his soul escape, but Yan Chihuo still encircled it with sword threads and caught it. This time, Yan Chihuo did not take out a jade bottle. He merely seized the yellow-robed cultivator's soul and activated the Innate Seventy-Two Transformations, refining it.
After a while, once Yan Chihuo had completely absorbed the cultivator surnamed Huang's memories,