The Ascendancy Fruit was no rare herb of longevity, even upon the Crimson Planet. Though tales spoke of its danger, it was not beyond reach.

The fruit itself was no larger than an infant’s fist, a deep crimson hue that pulsed with an unsettling, otherworldly aroma. Should one partake, a feeling of intense euphoria would seize them, a sensation akin to floating amongst the immortals. Thus, it was named the Ascendancy Fruit.

For mortals, the fruit held a potent allure, leading to dependence. Yet, for cultivators, such weaknesses were lessened. Still, some amongst them indulged, lost within the fleeting bliss it provided.

In the mortal realm, those of power and wealth would often expend fortunes bartered with cultivators for a single Ascendancy Fruit, seeking to immerse themselves in the illusion of divinity.

Wang Lin gazed across the vista, an endless expanse where the Ascendancy Fruits grew in a dense, unbroken throng.

He held little interest in the fruits. Instead, a withered arm, adorned with a bracer, burst forth from the heavens, shattering the enchantments that bound it. The skeletal limb radiated a dark aura, which instantly transformed into a suffocating miasma of demonic energy that engulfed the surroundings.

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed, fixed upon the arm. With a swift gesture, he drew his Immortal Sword from his pouch.

Within the blade, Xu Liguo whimpered. His previous treachery foiled, he had walked a careful path. But now, seeing the Immortal Sword unsheathed, he resolved to prove his worth once more!

Having served Wang Lin for many years, he understood the man’s nature. *If I but perform a deed of great value,* he thought, *this demon will surely forget my past transgressions.*

The Immortal Sword hummed, a song of ancient power. For the blade was a proud thing, the pinnacle of all arms. Yet, in its song, a hint of trepidation could be detected.

The ebon arm, once revealed, clenched its fist, summoning a tempest of demonic winds.

Wang Lin anticipated this. His eyes flared crimson, the heart of slaughter awakened within him. He twisted the Immortal Sword, unleashing a torrent of sword-energy, and flung the blade itself forth. Transformed into a dragon of pure sword-force, it followed close upon the heels of the energy.

Guided by Xu Liguo, the sword-dragon swept across the battlefield, its might crashing against the skeletal arm in a furious, intertwined dance.

The arm seemed to ignore the sword’s assault, reaching to seize it. But the moment its touch fell upon the Immortal Sword, the limb recoiled as if burned by a brand of fire.

Xu Liguo, within the sword, laughed triumphantly. With a twist of the blade, he prepared to withdraw and deliver another blow. But in that instant, the bracer upon the arm unleashed a wave of demonic energy that surged into the Immortal Sword itself.

Xu Liguo cried out in alarm, attempting to flee. But the skeletal hand held fast, its grip unbreakable.

Wang Lin watched with detached gaze. As the demonic energy radiated from the bracer, he raised his right forefinger and uttered the incantation, “Demonize!”

He did not invoke the immortal energies within him, but rather the wild, untamed power of the world. Channeling this force with the strength of a nascent soul cultivator, Wang Lin could transform the very essence of the heavens into the heart of demon-hood, focusing it into this single gesture. It was unlike the deathly touch of the Necrotic Finger, for this spell radiated pure demonic energy!

In that heartbeat, Wang Lin’s forefinger became a vortex, drawing upon the wild power of the world. A speck of blackness materialized at his fingertip, an abyss that seemed to swallow light itself. With a flick of his wrist, the darkness streaked towards the arm.

It moved with impossible speed, striking the arm. A series of sharp cracks echoed as the skeletal structure shattered. Xu Liguo retreated with the sword.

As the arm crumbled, a rune on the bracer flared, and the shattered bones burst outward, a shockwave of black spreading for thousands of feet, creating a prison of darkness.

Then, the rune flashed again, and a series of delicate chimes, like music from the heavens, resonated within the enclosed space.

The events unfolded in a blink. As the chimes echoed, more potent than any demonic wind, Wang Lin struggled to maintain the clarity of his slaughtering heart.

His face grim, Wang Lin stepped into the air and slashed down, directing his palm toward the bracer.

The moment his hand made contact, demonic flames erupted from the bracer, coalescing into a black form the size of a fist. The figure possessed a single horn upon its head and a body of utter darkness. A sneer twisted its lips as it unleashed a piercing shriek!

Wang Lin’s nascent soul trembled, but his eyes grew colder still. His hand did not waver. He struck, palm against the bracer.

Again, the dark form screamed, the sound more intense than before.

The piercing sound formed a series of sonic booms that reverberated between the bracer and Wang Lin.

But the true attack was upon his very soul. The demonic sound assailed him, threatening to tear his nascent soul from his body, driving his heart of slaughter to the edge of collapse!

A cruel smile played upon the dark form’s face as it shrieked again!

Wang Lin bit his tongue, his body moving forward. He reached out with lightning speed, seizing the bracer and flooding it with his immortal energy.

As his power surged into the object, the demonic sounds faded. Yet, in that moment, the dark form lunged, plunging into Wang Lin’s arm and transforming into a torrent of demonic energy that coursed through his veins, making straight for his nascent soul.

*A Dance of Demons!*

Wang Lin, still gripping the bracer, plummeted to the ground and sat in lotus position. Within his mind, the demonic energy flowed through his meridians, conjuring visions that threatened to overwhelm his nascent soul.
The midday sun cast an ethereal glow upon Wang Lin’s face, a subtle glimmer in his eyes. He glanced down at the Ascendant Fruits, cultivated with painstaking care, that surrounded him. Without hesitation, he stretched forth his hands, and with a sweeping gesture, every single Ascendant Fruit within a thousand feet was plucked from its branch, floating skyward.

A veritable swarm of these fruits, numbering in the tens of thousands, ascended. The very heavens seemed to be choked with their purplish-red hues.

At that moment, a surge of demonic energy, ever-present within Wang Lin’s very essence, tugged at his soul, threatening to tear it from his mortal coil.

His face grim, Wang Lin clapped his hands together. Instantly, the airborne Ascendant Fruits shattered, their juices mingling, coalescing, condensing, until they were something new and terrible.

In the blink of an eye, the essence of ten thousand fruits had been distilled into a single drop.

A crimson droplet, the colour of fresh blood.

Gazing upon this distilled elixir, Wang Lin hesitated not. He snatched it from the air and cast it into his mouth.

The instant it touched his tongue, a tremor ran through Wang Lin’s entire being. The strange, otherworldly sensation inherent within the Ascendant Fruits amplified exponentially, a torrent of raw power that crashed through his mind like bolts of celestial lightning.

Amidst this overwhelming surge, Wang Lin’s spirit soared to a fever pitch of elation. But he quelled the euphoria, channeling it into the very fiber of his being. The soul that had teetered on the brink of escape, ravaged by demonic forces, found purchase, and stubbornly remained anchored to its vessel.

Wang Lin’s eyes burned crimson, the veins upon his face bulged as he battled an inner torment that threatened to tear him asunder.

“Begone!”

A guttural roar erupted from Wang Lin’s throat, a sound that echoed like thunder, shaking the very foundations of the surrounding landscape. A shadowy form, leeching at his essence, was wrenched forth from his right hand.

The dark entity, however, was far from subdued. Only half-extracted, it shrieked in defiance, struggling to burrow back into Wang Lin’s flesh.

His visage contorted in a rictus of agony, the power of the Ascendant Fruits coursed through him, a raw, untamed force, fueling his pain with a perverse, almost unbearable pleasure.

He fought to suppress the agony, and to quell the intoxicating delight. Instead, he channelled both sensations, compressed them into a single, unimaginable surge of power.

“I SAID, BEGONE!”

Wang Lin threw back his head, his hands flung skyward. With every fibre of his being, he unleashed a torrent of power, finally expelling the shadowy entity from his body.

The moment it burst free, hovering in the air, Wang Lin’s eyes became pools of crimson blood. He lunged forward, seizing the shade, unleashing a torrent of immortal energy, flooding it with raw, untamed power.

The entity shrieked, its form dissolving into wisps of shadow that slipped through Wang Lin’s fingers. It reformed a scant ten feet away, fixing him with a gaze of pure, unadulterated venom.

But Wang Lin ignored the hatred. The power of the Ascendant Fruits was nearing critical mass within him. Driven by this surge, Wang Lin took a single, resolute step forward, extending the little finger of his left hand without hesitation.

The Yellow Springs Finger!

Wielding the Yellow Springs Finger with the cultivation of one who had Ascended to the Peak, he invoked the very essence of life and death, imbuing the gesture with his entire will.

Stimulated by the power of the Ascendant Fruits, Wang Lin unleashed the most powerful attack of his mortal life.

With that one finger, the world lost its colour.

This single utterance of the Yellow Springs technique bordered almost on a lower celestial art. The small sky began to collapse. One touch, and death would be upon them.

The single-horned, dark entity saw its coming, filled with shock and horror. However, it was too late.

It collapsed and died.

From the ancient battlefield, a roar came from within the black tower. A powerful and angry will escaped the armor and dissipated into nothing.

The incantation ceased, the thousand feet of dark magic dispersed.

Wang Lin clutched his wrist. His right hand held an ancient bracer, tainted with demonic energy. He spat a drop of elemental fire, which turned into a spider web that sealed it shut.

Stuffing it into his bag, Wang Lin’s eyes were still bloodshot. The Ascendant Fruit power had not dissipated. The only thing on his mind was a fight.

The passion was something Wang Lin had never felt. He took out his sword, and was joined by Xu Liguo, who was too afraid to speak. He knew that Wang Lin would not be controlled.