Oblivion is the utter erasure of existence from memory, the wiping away of a presence from the very soul. Should Li Muwan one day awaken within the Heavenly Inverse Pearl, Wang Lin would feel no lingering emotion, only a serene smile as he returned her to the Vermilion Bird Star.

Let all things return to dust… to the earth from whence they came.

A gentle breeze stirred, lifting strands of Wang Lin’s hair, causing them to dance upon the wind.

Heavenly Marshal’s eyes gleamed with inner fire. He stepped forward, halting at the edge of the platform, his gaze fixed upon Wang Lin. In that moment, he seemed to pierce the veil of Wang Lin’s hesitation, muttering to himself, “Can he bring himself to do it? When faced with the choice, I pressed onward. How will *he* choose? Ascendancy… those who have not reached its pinnacle cannot comprehend what it truly represents.

“Ascendancy is a lonely path. For those with vacant hearts, free of attachment, the breakthrough in heart’s intent, beyond the gates of Yuan Shen, is simple! But it is this very simplicity that limits their progress, for their hearts have never known such struggle!

“But there are others, those whose hearts hold cherished memories and deep affection. For them, the breakthrough in heart’s intent is not merely a test, but a tormenting trial.”

Within the ranks of the Demon Generals, the sole woman, the wickedly beautiful Xie Lian, wore a mask of scorn. Recovered from her earlier grief, she watched Wang Lin’s back, her eyes burning with mockery.

She understood the trials of heart’s intent that faced cultivators at the threshold of Ascendancy far better than most of the demonic denizens, for her own master had once been a cultivator.

“To cast aside all cherished affection… can you truly do it?”

Shi Xiao scowled, watching Wang Lin with ill-disguised contempt. “He is merely posturing!”

Standing beside him, Chen Tao frowned. For the first time, he found this Demon General, whom he had chosen to aid, utterly distasteful.

He paused, then spoke calmly, “You would not understand the torment he endures, any more than a mortal can comprehend the heart of an Immortal.”

Shi Xiao turned to face Chen Tao, his expression darkening.

Mo Fei’s icy indifference deepened. He watched Wang Lin and whispered, “You and the one who came before you… both elicit envy. Intriguing.”

The Great Luo Sword Sect cultivator behind him was the only one to hear these words. A tremor ran through him, and he lowered his head in silence.

Above them, Xuan Hun, the General of Heaven, sighed softly. He was no cultivator, but his position afforded him a glimpse into the tribulations of Ascendancy. Though his knowledge was limited, he understood the significance of Wang Lin’s pause.

Far beyond the imperial capital, a painted barge floated gently upon the river’s surface. The young man who had shared a night of wine with Wang Lin sat upon the bow, tossing back the contents of his goblet in one gulp. “Little friend,” he murmured, “how will *you* choose?”

The woman who played the zither sat nearby, but she did not play now. She simply sat, lost in her thoughts.

Wang Lin’s hand hovered an inch above the demon drum, unmoving. He stared, transfixed.

“A perfect Dao-heart… only attained by sweeping away the sorrows within. But at what price? Li Muwan’s face swam before him, memories flowing like a gentle river.

“If the price of Ascendancy is the erasure of my sorrow, the wiping away of Muwan’s presence… then what kind of Dao am I following? Is this truly *my* path? Muwan lived and died, only to be cast into eternal slumber. If I strike the drum, she will unknowingly become a mere vessel to my ambition!”

“I, Wang Lin, though I may not be a towering figure, I will strive to live without shame. Heaven is merciless, but if I become so, then I am not defying fate, but succumbing to it!

“To cast aside all affection is the path of those fleeing cultivators who deserted the demon general’s ranks – an escape. That is not the path of Wang Lin!”

“My path is defiance, to rage against the heavens! *That* is my road! The ancient cultivators hid their cultivation from the heavens. Now, I understand the meaning of their deception. It is not truly hiding, but merely escaping. Though not truly yielding to fate, their final destination is the same – the end!”

Clarity bloomed within Wang Lin’s eyes.

“I can sweep away the sorrow in my heart, but the attachment that remains… not even the heavens can steal that from me!” In that instant, Wang Lin lifted his head, gazing defiantly at the sky!

An astonishing aura erupted from him, so subtle that many did not perceive its strength. Yet, it sent a shiver through all those present, even the Heavenly Marshal.

It was like a honed blade, erupting from Wang Lin, piercing through the heavens. The clouds parted, revealing a clear sky, pure and boundless!

“This… this is…” Even the stoic Heavenly Marshal was visibly shaken, his eyes wide with astonishment.

“He has chosen a path akin to that of the Demon Emperor himself!” Heavenly Marshal studied Wang Lin, his brow furrowed.

The golden-armored man’s face paled further. The instant Wang Lin’s hand had stopped, a flicker of hope had ignited within him. But the aura now emanating from Wang Lin was a harbinger of doom.

He glared at Wang Lin’s back, his eyes burning with murderous intent.

“If I slay him before he strikes the drum fifteen times, even if the Demon Emperor rebukes me, he will not punish me too harshly. After all, this one is merely a cultivator! I am not only of the demon realm, but also served with distinction under the Heavenly Demon Lord!”

As quickly as it had erupted, Wang Lin’s aura vanished.

“True cultivation lies in defying the heavens. I refuse to believe that Ascendancy is impossible if one retains inner affection, only shedding the sorrow within. The realm of Ascendancy is not dictated by fate, but defined by the cultivator themselves. The heavens cannot force my hand! The only thing that can is my own heart!

“If the heart yields, devoid of rebellious spirit, then it is deceived by the heavens. But if the heart remains steadfast, then let the heavens try to interfere with my Ascendancy, try to prevent me from cultivating against the very fabric of reality!”
A glint ignited within Wang Lin’s eyes as he drew a deep, steadying breath. He cast aside all restraint, channeling the sorrow born from Li Muwan’s fate into his right hand. At that moment, the very heavens shifted; countless rumbles transformed into jagged lightning, twisting like silver serpents across the sky, their furious energy unleashed upon the world.

This bizarre spectacle above the Imperial City did not go unnoticed, rousing all within Tian Yao City. Heads turned upward, every gaze fixed upon the capital.

Upon the vast plaza, all eyes converged upon a single point: the seemingly insignificant figure of Wang Lin.

Even the noble youth, Qing Nian, within his painted boat drifting on the city’s river, set down his wine cup and rose, his eyes alight with anticipation as he watched the Imperial City.

Far beyond Tian Yao City, across countless leagues, over the ancient battleground where tiger roars echoed through swirling mists of trapped souls, within a towering black spire, a suit of armor stirred in the highest chamber.

From within the helmet, a spectral light blazed, and as it did, the air surrounding the tower shimmered with an unsettling force.

A voice, carried on the winds of arcane power, echoed within the spire, “A defiant spirit… excellent.”

Back in the Imperial City’s plaza, Wang Lin, his grief distilled into his right hand, moved with grim purpose. His hand, laden with sorrow, descended toward the demonic drum!

In that instant, the golden-armored warrior’s eyes blazed with killing intent. With a surge of power, he focused his energy into his legs, moving with impossible speed to intercept Wang Lin.

“Die!” he roared, appearing behind Wang Lin. His right hand flared with celestial brilliance, as if he held the very sun itself in his grasp.

“He must not strike the fifteenth beat! Kill him, and I defy even the Emperor’s wrath!” The warrior’s murderous intent solidified into something tangible.

As his hand drew closer, the earth ignited beneath it. Within a hundred paces, the plaza transformed into a hellscape of roaring flame!

Upon the high tower, the Sky Marshal’s eyes narrowed. He launched himself from the tower, shouting, “Golden Crow Xu! What do you intend?!”

Wang Lin turned his head, unsurprised by the warrior’s sudden appearance. He had foreseen this act of defiance. Three thousand brandings of vitality surged within him, reinforcing him. With the impending power of the fifteenth drumbeat, Wang Lin felt confident he could withstand the assault.

A cruel smile twisted the Golden Crow’s lips. He pressed his sun-like hand forward, seizing the opportune moment. If Wang Lin dodged, he would fail to deliver the final beat. If he did not, the warrior would strike him down as the drum sounded.

Ignoring the Sky Marshal’s command, the Golden Crow pressed forward, the fire of malice burning bright in his eyes. As the Sky Marshal rushed to intervene, the Golden Crow slammed his left hand backward, ensuring no one would hinder his assassination.

The Sky Marshal chanted, his hands forming a seal. A bolt of dark energy slammed into the Golden Crow’s outstretched arm.

Within the painted boat on the city’s river, Qing Nian’s face darkened. Fury flashed in his eyes as he growled, “Impudent! Golden Crow Xu! You are damned!”

In that instant, the Golden Crow faltered. The killing intent in his eyes flickered, and the flames around him dimmed. A faint, thunderous reverberation echoed in his ears, and he blanched, whispering, “That sound…”

Simultaneously, within the black tower on the distant ancient battlefield, the light within the armor flared, and a cold, contemptuous snort resonated throughout the chamber.

The Golden Crow’s utterance hung in the air before a chilling voice manifested, whispering into his ears alone.

The warrior shuddered violently. His golden armor shattered, and he spewed a mouthful of blood. The sun in his hand flickered, then died.