A supreme Pure Yang treasure could hold unimaginable stores of solar essence. Take the Sun-Moon Five-Star Bracelet, for example—over several cycles of sixty years it had absorbed countless batches of Nine-Yang Sacred Water. No mere handful of gourds could compare. When Yan's cultivation once surged to the Heaven-Man Realm, it was because he had consumed an entire pond's worth of the Sacred Water refined by the Seven-Leaf Demon Lord. And from now on, every step he attempted to climb would demand even more of it. If he ever wished to reach the Longevity Realm, he might well need the equivalent of a vast river.
Yan's original strength was undoubtedly that of a Longevity-realm powerhouse. Now that his cultivation was no longer sealed, he needed only sufficient Pure Yang energy to ascend rapidly once more.
But even the mighty Taiyi Sect did not possess a "vast river" of Nine-Yang Sacred Water.
To ordinary cultivators, such water was priceless; to those at the Longevity level, it was not rare in principle—but manufacturing it in bulk demanded impossible amounts of labor and time.
For Yan to fully restore his true power, at least ten Longevity-realm experts would need to draw down celestial qi and refine it into Nine-Yang Sacred Water continuously for sixty years. Anything less was pointless.
His only viable path now was to wait—wait for Fang Han to step into the Longevity Realm and rise to the rank of an undying giant. Only then could Fang Han gradually help him recover. Anything else was a drop in the ocean.
Still, having all his injuries healed and his vitality roaring back like a dragon's surge left Yan extremely satisfied.
"Fang Han, look! The next auction item is exactly what you're after—the Nine-Heavens Earth-Breath Crystal! Something even higher than the Mountain-Spirit Bead. In ancient times, great sages used these to tame floods. Just a handful could become a colossal dam, holding back raging waters for miles. It's also the finest material for earth-attribute artifacts, especially those that counter water-type divine techniques!"
Yan's shout drew Fang Han's attention. In the center of the auction hall, the third item of the night was being unveiled: a tray of fine ochre-colored crystalline sand. It radiated no obvious earth-element aura, but anyone with a powerful spiritual sense could feel it—a pressure like an ancient mountain towering into the sky.
The Nine-Heavens Earth-Breath Crystal.
A relic of the ancients, used to command the floods.
A single handful, casually thrown, could rise into a dam tens of thousands of feet high, holding back cataclysmic waters for centuries, even millennia. Ordinary cultivators might conjure temporary barriers through spellcraft, but such things always washed away in a few years.
The auctioneer, the Red-Palm Immortal, introduced the item. "As you all know, the Nine-Heavens Earth-Breath Crystal is a supreme earth-attribute sacred material. Its greatest uses: strengthening cave-mansions, fortifying spiritual mountains, and nurturing rare herbs. Mix this into the foundation of a mountain, and the peak bonds with the land itself—unshakable, impregnable. Your herbs will grow faster and stronger, and even high-level enemies will find it nearly impossible to invade. Starting price: five million pills. Minimum increments: one hundred thousand."
Many nodded. The claims were no exaggeration.
Fang Han knew this as well. If he incorporated this into his Reincarnation Peak, not only would pill yields and spiritual herbs multiply, but the mountain would become indestructible. Long-term cultivation would even give rise to Wu-Earth Divine Thunder, automatically blasting invading enemies with devastating earth-charged lightning.
But starting at five million—twice the price of a Mountain-Spirit Bead—it was clearly not for common cultivators.
Fang Han needed it and saw no point in hesitation. He raised his hand.
"Five million one hundred thousand!"
"Five million two hundred thousand!"
A shout came from below—a disciple at the third level of the Divine Ability Realm, his qi already condensed into Gang Qi. Fang Han could tell the young man cultivated earth-type arts; obtaining this crystal might allow his qi to transform, pushing him into the Yin-Yang Realm.
But Fang Han also knew the truth: the man could never actually afford it.
Sure enough, a voice from a private room called, "Five million five hundred thousand!"
The Gang-Qi disciple deflated like a punctured waterskin. That had been everything he owned.
"Five million six hundred thousand!" Fang Han called evenly.
"Five million seven hundred thousand!" Another private room joined—its occupant a silver-robed Daoist covered in embroidered golden miniature swords. The robe radiated killing sword-qi, as if a thousand blades might fly out at any moment.
"The Ten-Thousand-Sword Robe," Fang Han recognized. A top-grade treasure of the Tongtian Sword Sect—meaning the Daoist was certainly a senior elder.
"Six million!"
Meng Shaobai's voice cut in, startling Fang Han. Of course—after buying the Kunpeng Egg for fifty million, six million was nothing to him. Fang Han didn't particularly want to waste funds competing with Meng Shaobai, but the Nine-Heavens Earth-Breath Crystal was simply too valuable. His Five-Emperor Demonic Divine Ability had already reached near-completion in four elements; only Earth lagged behind. With this crystal, he could complete a closed five-element cycle—producing Five-Element Divine Thunder potent enough to rival the greatest tribulation techniques.
"Six million one hundred thousand," Fang Han said calmly.
"Six million two hundred thousand," replied the Ten-Thousand-Sword Daoist.
"Six million three hundred thousand!" came another familiar private-room voice—the middle-aged cultivator from Crystal Cave Heaven.
"Six million five hundred thousand!" Meng Shaobai again.
"Six million six hundred thousand," Fang Han countered, still steady.
"Seven million!" Meng Shaobai snapped, raising the pressure.
"Seven million one hundred thousand."
Fang Han sighed, as if reluctant to continue. Several bidders fell silent. Meng Shaobai's wealth was infamous—a man who casually spent fifty million would not be outbid easily.
"Eight million!" Meng Shaobai barked, adding another million in one breath. Most cultivators immediately stepped back.
"Eight million one hundred thousand," Fang Han said quietly.
"One million more—ten million!" Meng Shaobai's tone grew impatient.
"One million more—ten million one hundred thousand," Fang Han replied, though irritation crept into his heart. Without Meng Shaobai, he could have taken it at eight million.
"Fifteen million." Meng Shaobai snapped his fingers, smirking.
Fang Han prepared to increase again—when suddenly, a soft, youthful voice drifted from another private room:
"Thirty million. I'll take it."
The entire hall froze.
Even Meng Shaobai's expression shifted. A leap from fifteen to thirty million—doubling the price outright—was a challenge even to him.
Fang Han instantly stopped. So did everyone else. Whoever that childish voice belonged to, they had no intention of letting anyone else compete.
"Who is that?" Fang Han frowned. The voice felt strangely familiar.
"Thirty million is far beyond the item's worth," Lianyun Fairy murmured, shaking her head.
No further bids came. The Earth-Breath Crystal was carried down.
Fang Han had resigned himself to the loss—until the curtain of his private room lifted. Thirteen-Niang, Green-Brow, and an imposing elder in Daoist robes entered, carrying a tray.
On it lay the Nine-Heavens Earth-Breath Crystal.
"Master Fang Han," Thirteen-Niang smiled, "it seems your reputation runs deeper than we knew. This was purchased for you by the occupant of Private Room Ninety-Nine. Please accept it."