Yu Zitong's soul was trapped in a narrow corner, desperately flailing around like a wingless fly. Every time he tried to escape, a jet of black liquid pushed him back, followed by a deadly flash of cold light that repeatedly slashed at his soul, diminishing the faint green glow with each strike.
He felt a deep sense of despair. Although the sword strikes weakened his soul considerably, it was the continuous corrosion from the black liquid that left him powerless. Since being drenched in the liquid, he had felt an unbearable itch and weakness, his remaining spiritual energy slowly eroding. More importantly, the liquid had rendered his magical powers useless, as if his body and soul were being forcibly restrained.
"Why are you doing this? Why...?" Yu Zitong's hoarse voice echoed from the soul sphere, filled with a deep sense of injustice. His voice was tinged with bitterness, but Han Li remained silent, responding only with the relentless swing of his blade.
Gradually, Yu Zitong's voice grew weaker and weaker, until it was nothing more than a faint hum, and eventually, complete silence fell.
Han Li did not stop. He saw that the faint flicker of Yu Zitong's soul still clung to life on the ground like a candle flickering in the wind. He continued to strike with his sword, landing more than a dozen blows on the already weakened soul. When it became clear that the last remaining green light wouldn't extinguish itself, Han Li sheathed the sword, wrapping it back around his waist. He coldly said, "I never cooperate with anyone who swears on their parents' lives. And I won't follow in Mo Dafu's footsteps and trust a scoundrel like you."
With a final cold glance at Yu Zitong's last flickering soul flame, Han Li turned and walked toward the stone door. With a firm push, the heavy door creaked open.
As the door swung open, bright sunlight flooded in, casting long beams across the room. The faint green glow from Yu Zitong's soul instantly blinked out with a puff, dissipating into a wisp of smoke and vanishing into the air.
With that, the last trace of Yu Zitong's presence in this world was completely erased. There would be no more traces of him to track. Han Li had known about the vulnerability of souls to light—something Mo Dafu had inadvertently hinted at by extinguishing the lamps when he first entered the room. Otherwise, Han Li might have been left with an undying threat hanging over him.
But Han Li's quick thinking and the poison water, specially prepared to deal with Mo Dafu's previous poison, had done its part. This new toxic liquid contained "Earth Mushroom Flowers," which not only proved highly toxic to mortals but also seriously hindered the souls of cultivators. It had played a crucial role in weakening Yu Zitong's soul and ensuring his swift destruction.
If not for the poison, Han Li knew that once the door opened and the sunlight touched Yu Zitong's soul, it would have been doomed anyway. But the poison had made things quicker, easier, and more foolproof.
Han Li didn't know how he had managed to accidentally discover this clever method. He mused that if Yu Zitong could somehow hear of it, he might die of anger all over again.
He didn't dwell on that, however. Now that the threat was gone, Han Li was free. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly liberated—no more knives held to his throat, no more constant fear of death.
He stood still for a moment in the center of the stone room, allowing himself a brief moment of peace. Then, all of a sudden, he leapt into the air, soaring three feet high. He let out a loud, joyous shout, letting the immense relief and happiness fill his heart. His true nature as a sixteen-year-old boy finally found its voice.
"I'm finally free!" Han Li yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing throughout the stone room.
But just as he was about to continue his triumphant declaration, his voice suddenly cut off. A massive figure appeared in his peripheral vision, a shadowy presence moving just outside the stone door. It was none other than the giant man known as "Iron Slave."
Han Li's expression immediately darkened. Seeing this figure sent a jolt of recognition through him, and the pain in his shoulder seemed to flare up again. He realized his grave mistake. He had completely forgotten about the giant man—he hadn't extracted any useful information about him from Yu Zitong's soul. He had neglected to ask about his origins and weaknesses.
But as Han Li watched, a slight sense of relief washed over him. The giant man seemed completely uninterested in the happenings inside the stone room. He was simply pacing outside, adhering to Mo Dafu's previous orders to stay on guard, paying no attention to the open door.
Han Li furrowed his brows, sensing the situation was far from ideal. The giant, though seemingly dull and mindless, was a considerable threat. Han Li couldn't communicate with him, couldn't reason with him. If things turned violent, Han Li was no match for the giant. The only weapon he had left was the empty vial of poison water—useless now.
Walking back and forth in the stone room, Han Li wracked his brain for a solution, but his thoughts were a tangled mess, unable to form a clear plan.
In an unintentional moment, his gaze fell upon Mo Dafu's lifeless body. An idea suddenly struck him.
"Perhaps I can find something on his corpse that could help deal with the giant," Han Li thought to himself.
He glanced back at the giant, who was still pacing outside, oblivious to what was unfolding in the room. Relieved that the giant hadn't noticed him yet, Han Li took a few steady steps toward Mo Dafu's body. Without hesitation, he extended his hands and began searching the corpse, meticulously feeling for anything that might prove useful.