Beneath the gray skies of the Netherworld Land, a staggering figure struggled across the barren Gobi. Han Li was drenched in blood, his face as white as paper, his chest heaving. Every breath rasped like a broken bellows. In his brief clash with the ghost at the late stage of core formation, he had used the residual power of the Profound Yin Token to frighten off the formidable foe, but even the aftermath of its casual strike had compounded his injuries. His meridians were severed, the cracks in his Golden Core had widened, and his Spiritual Power was nearly exhausted. Had it not been for the extraordinary body-tempering effects of the Profound Fiend Asura Art and his tenacious will, he would already have collapsed.
He dared not linger. Forcing himself to muster a breath of vital essence, he relied on his powerful instinct for survival and fled desperately away from that secluded valley. He could no longer sustain the Profound Yin Qi-Concealing Art. His aura was in utter disarray, as conspicuous in this deathly silent world as a firefly in the night.
[Warning! Host's injuries continue to worsen! Physical damage: 78%! Golden Core on the verge of collapse! Spiritual Power depleted! Vital signs falling rapidly! Emergency life-support protocol operating beyond capacity... insufficient energy reserves...]
The system's alarms came intermittently, riddled with static. Clearly, it too had reached its limit. Han Li's vision began to blur, his ears buzzed, and the world seemed to spin. He knew he could not hold on much longer.
"I can't... fall here..." He bit the tip of his tongue, using the sharp pain to rouse his fading consciousness. Fumbling out his last Lower-Grade Spirit Stone, he tried to draw on its meager energy, but it was only a cup of water against a