A hint of surprise flashed through the monk's eyes upon seeing this, and he immediately swept a sleeve through the air, releasing a burst of energy fluctuations that severed the enormous suction force being released by the golden vortex. "Please have mercy, Fellow Daoist Han. You've already passed the test, and those eight ghost monarchs are still useful to me, so please spare them."

Upon regaining their freedom, the eight ghosts let loose low roars before disintegration into specks of black Qi.

"Rest assured, Fellow Daoist, I wouldn't have actually attacked those eight ghosts; I was merely curious and wanted to examine their power," Han Li chuckled in response.

The projection and golden vortex behind him then vanished in unison, but an inky-black ball had appeared in his hand, and he was appraising it in an intrigued manner.

This was none other than the Infernal Netherworld Wind that he had gathered with his Revolving Golden Light.

However, the wind had been compressed into this ball by his enormous...