A tremor seized Wang Lin’s pupils, and his gaze fell to his pouch of holding. A tendril of his divine sense delved within, and he beheld a strange occurrence. The mystical painting scroll, claimed long ago upon the planet Suzaku, had unfurled of its own volition. Within, a violet light pulsed, revealing a spectral form – a woman of alluring figure, her back turned to Wang Lin, as though lost in a soliloquy, whispering a single word.

“Descend…”

The presence of this fair shade within the scroll was not unknown to Wang Lin. Years past, when facing the Third Ancestor of the Immortal Clan upon Suzaku, his summoned talisman beasts were drawn into the scroll’s depths by this very figure’s beckoning.

The scroll was a persistent enigma. Even after achieving the Ascendant stage, Wang Lin had pondered its secrets within the Soul Refining Tribe, yet all his efforts proved fruitless. Though he could imprint his mark upon it, he could not command it.

Now, the ethereal woman had appeared once more. A spark ignited within Wang Lin’s mind, and he sent forth a tendril of his thought.

“Descend into this abyss?”

“Descend…” she murmured again, her voice a silken thread.

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed. He withdrew his divine sense, casting his gaze upon the immense chasm beside him. A bottomless blackness dwelled within, a chilling aura exuding from its depths.

After a moment of pondering, Wang Lin wrenched his gaze away and, with a flick of his sleeves, sped after Zhou Yi.

“Could there be something within this pit that holds a connection to the scroll?” Wang Lin mused, his brow furrowed as he pursued Zhou Yi.

“A strange power resides within this abyss, one that can sway the mind,” Zhou Yi’s voice echoed from the ancient sword ahead. “Those of weak will risk losing their footing should they gaze into its depths.”

“Avert your eyes and focus upon your flight!” Zhou Yi commanded.

Wang Lin nodded, steeling his resolve. He followed Zhou Yi swiftly through the corridor, the abyss’s pull growing stronger and weaker by turns.

How long they flew, Wang Lin could not say, but suddenly, the ancient sword housing Zhou Yi halted. Wang Lin likewise stilled his steps. They had reached the eastern edge of the corridor, where a profound darkness obscured the path ahead.

“Beware! There is sorcery within this abyss!” Zhou Yi’s warning had scarcely left his lips when a thick, violet mist erupted from the pit, enveloping all around.

Zhou Yi’s voice, filtering through the fog, sounded distant and ethereal.

A glint of cold light flickered in Wang Lin’s eyes. The mist was unsettling in its suddenness. It obstructed their sight, and even their divine sense could only reach a paltry thirty feet before being swallowed as though by some unseen maw. Even within that limited range, the details were indistinct.

Simultaneously, the abyss’s pull seemed to intensify with the mist’s appearance, yet the mist remained unaffected, a perplexing contradiction.

A flash of sword-light pierced the fog ahead, and Zhou Yi’s ancient sword circled Wang Lin, carrying Zhou Yi’s telepathic voice.

“Enough. Ascend, Wang Lin. I shall guide you. This fog is treacherous, and your strength may not suffice to withstand its dangers.”

Without hesitation, Wang Lin leapt onto the ancient sword. A surge of immortal power emanated from its surface, flowing through Wang Lin’s feet and coursing through his entire being.

“Center your breath, solidify your spirit, open and close your heart, and embrace the immortal power without expelling it!” Zhou Yi’s command reverberated in Wang Lin’s mind. Wang Lin obeyed instantly. The immortal power coursing through him pulsed, then burst forth, weaving through his meridians, creating a golden, shimmering screen of immortal energy about his form!

This barrier not only pulsed with immortal power but crackled with sword-force. As it spread, the violet mist parted as if cloven by gigantic hands, creating a path.

Zhou Yi, transformed into a streak of brilliant light, carried Wang Lin into the violet fog. They sped onwards, scattering the mist before them. Even the tendrils that resisted were annihilated by the concentrated sword energy that poured from the ancient sword.

The ancient sword’s speed was breathtaking. The wind lashed at Wang Lin’s face, and the surrounding fog seemed to coalesce into violet dragons that flickered past his eyes.

After an age, the ancient sword abruptly swerved, rising in a spiraling path. Wang Lin circulated the immortal energy within him, struggling to maintain his balance atop the blade without being flung off.

“The aura of the Rain Sword’s spirit lies ahead, Wang Lin. Hold fast! I shall unleash my full speed!” Zhou Yi warned, granting Wang Lin a few precious moments to prepare. Then, the ancient sword surged forward with terrifying speed.

It moved so fast that afterimages trailed behind it, as if it were teleporting through the air. Wang Lin felt as though a thousand mountains were crashing upon him. He ceased to breathe, holding a single, precious breath of immortal energy.

If it were truly teleportation, Wang Lin could have endured, but this was not teleportation, only the speed *of* teleportation!

The screen of immortal energy surrounding him twisted and contorted, clinging desperately to Wang Lin’s body as the ancient sword reached an unimaginable velocity.

Wang Lin could even see the mist coalesce into a violet sea due to the sheer velocity, a phenomenon he remembered from centuries past, when he first set foot upon the path of cultivation. The nostalgic sensation evoked a bittersweet pang in his heart.

“This is the true power of an immortal sword! This is the might of a sword spirit! My own immortal sword possesses this power, but its spirit is weak, unable to unleash its full potential! Xu Liguo is treacherous and opportunistic, but the demon will not escape my grasp!”

Suddenly, the surrounding violet fog churned and billowed like a storm-tossed sea. Then, a monstrous suction surged from the immeasurable abyss from which the fog emanated.

The colossal force appeared abruptly, affecting even the mist, which had previously resisted its pull. The mist rushed back toward the abyss. At the same moment, tiny stones on the walls of the corridor trembled and were swept into the darkness.

Far behind them, an immense sword embedded in the corridor wall trembled. It shuddered, inching slowly from its resting place until, with a resounding crash, it broke free, succumbing to the suction and hurtling toward the pit. In that instant, Zhou Yi’s sword-form, bearing Wang Lin, soared past. Wang Lin beheld the familiar golden sword falling to the abyss’s depths.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Zhou Yi spun his celestial blade and plunged into the chasm. The abyss within exerted a tremendous pull, far greater than any force above. As Zhou Yi and the sword hurtled downwards, the combined velocity and gravitational force exceeded even the speed of lightning.

In an instant, they were upon the golden greatsword. Wang Lin, his feet firmly planted on the celestial blade, revealed a flash of resolve in his eyes. As the descending sword neared the golden behemoth, he extended his right hand, his fingers summoning a spectral grip in the void.

But the greatsword was ensnared by the chasm’s relentless hunger. To seize it was to challenge the abyss itself, to wrestle with the very essence of the vortex. The moment Wang Lin’s ethereal hand closed, a crushing force slammed into him, threatening to rip him from the celestial blade and cast him into the depths.

In this moment of peril, Wang Lin drew a deep breath, his Daoic manifestation of the Yellow Springs swirling around him. With a pointed finger, he commanded the Yellow Springs to coil into a spiraling vortex, unleashing a torrent of spectral wind. Sheltered within this gale, the abyss’s pull lessened, allowing Wang Lin to tighten his grasp. The golden greatsword halted its descent, rising slowly as he fought to draw it upward.

From within the celestial blade, Zhou Yi emitted a guttural roar, an ancient incantation resonating through the air. The sword pulsed with light, and with a sudden surge, Zhou Yi propelled Wang Lin toward the chasm’s mouth.

Wang Lin felt his very flesh threatened with sundering. The greatsword, grasped by his right hand, possessed a weight beyond measure. With each thrust of the celestial blade, the veins on his face bulged.

With Zhou Yi’s desperate surge, the greatsword was lifted, inch by painstaking inch. Determination burned in Wang Lin’s eyes. He could not falter. To relinquish his hold now would mean the sword’s eternal entombment in the abyss.

With each upward heave, the sword rose higher, the remnants of its golden sheen peeling away to reveal the obsidian darkness that lay beneath.

The jewels that once adorned its hilt shattered one by one, reduced to glittering dust that vanished into the insatiable chasm.

With a final, agonizing bellow, Zhou Yi poured forth the last of the celestial blade’s power, gaining precious yards. Wang Lin, channeling his internal energies and protected by the swirling Yellow Springs, fought to nullify the abyss’s pull. At last, with a triumphant cry, Zhou Yi and Wang Lin burst forth from the chasm’s maw!

The moment they were free, Wang Lin roared, his right hand clenching around the phantom grip. The greatsword erupted from the depths, solidifying in Wang Lin’s grasp.

“Titan’s Hoard!” Etched in faint characters upon the sword’s ebony surface were these two words.

Clutching Titan’s Hoard, a torrent of memories flooded Wang Lin’s mind. He inhaled deeply, allowing no time for further contemplation, and was whisked away by Zhou Yi’s swift flight along a nearby corridor.

Zhou Yi blazed through the inner passages, guided by Wang Lin’s telepathic directions, hurtling towards the Tide Abyss’s sole exit: the Fiery Imp Kingdom.

Wang Lin, cradling Titan’s Hoard, cast a swift, knowing glance at the weapon before stowing it within his storage pouch. In that fleeting moment, he had gleaned insights hidden from lesser eyes. Had his cultivation been weaker, they would have remained shrouded, but now, having reached the Ascendant realm, the truth was clear.

But this was not the time for investigation. Safe within the storage pouch, Wang Lin planned to dedicate himself to understanding Titan’s Hoard upon escaping the Tide Abyss.

“This journey to the Tides has proven fruitful, alas, the enigmatic token eludes our grasp.” Wang Lin’s mind was clouded with doubt.

Within Wang Lin’s storage pouch, the Mosquito Beast stirred, its eyes snapping open. A flicker of confusion crossed its insectile gaze. Confined as it was, its connection to the outside world should have been severed. And yet, a sensation crept upon it, one of overwhelming familiarity, as if surrounded by kindred spirits.

After brief hesitation, the mosquito beast remained puzzled, glancing beside it at the slumbering Thunder Frog, it lay upon the spider and closed its eyes once more.

Driven by Zhou Yi’s unrelenting pace, they drew ever nearer to the Fiery Imp Kingdom’s gate, and likewise, to the encroaching mists swarming with ravenous mosquitoes that surrounded Tan Lang and his companions…

Meanwhile, far above, a celestial procession descended upon the Demon Spirit Land from the south. The air shimmered with ethereal energy, like a sliver torn straight from the immortal realm. The celestial cloud’s journey was marked by a dazzling display of color.

Upon this blessed cloud, stood two figures, a male and a female. The male was of an imposing stature, adorned in a water-blue robe embroidered with cloudlike patterns, the fabric seemed to ripple with water, and a curtain of ebony hair framed a chiseled, handsome face.

He stood proudly against the wind, and in his hands, a flute of verdant jade rested; he appeared almost as if a god descended to earth

Beside him stood a woman clothed in a lilac gown, adorned with small pink fairy flowers. Her hair was elegantly and loosely styled, and an amethyst flower lay nestled in it, appearing casual and yet elegant.

She was as beautiful as a lotus in spring, and her skin was as clear as jade.

Her eyes occasionally darted towards the male at her side, filled with a tender affection. Clearly, these two were a pair bonded by love and fate.

Flight by cloud and mist was a skill common among cultivators, but the clouds and mist used were merely taken from the sky itself.

Those who could perform this were considered of low skill, and not considered much. Not only did the clouds move rather slowly, but their were no other magical enchantments that came of it. It only seemed mystical and able to fool the common folk.

However, these two celestial beings, were nothing of that sort. The clouds which they stood on were formed from the refined and immaculate clouds of the Celestial Realm. Such a resource was incredibly rare even in the Celestial Realm!

The cloud contained a rare celestial lightning! And as such, the power that it emanated was not to be taken lightly!

The old guard of cultivators who witnessed the sight of the clouds, were able to instantly recognize the presence of these two! For the ability to float with the clouds in such a casual manner, was on that was only attainable by the Blood Ancestor, the Heavenly Yun Zi, or the Heavenly Marquis!

The Cloud Fairy Couple!

They who accompanied the Heavenly Marquis and the Heavenly Yun Zi when they first entered the Demon Spirit Land, who then occupied a cave for many years!

Wang Shu, and Hu Juan!

These two’s capabilities were equal to that of Yun Zi, combined with their natural talent of joining their strength to amplify their potential! Even the powerful Yun Zi was wary of this pair.
The Heavenly Fortune Sovereign, however, held a deeper apprehension, born not of power, but of mystery. This pair, Wang Wei and Hu Juan, possessed an origin shrouded in shadow, impervious even to the Sovereign’s relentless inquiries. All he knew was that their years upon the Path seemed to predate his own by untold lengths.

Fortunately, their natures were tranquil, devoid of ambition or lust for dominion. So long as they were left undisturbed, no ill was to be feared.

Had the diminutive elder within Wang Lin’s precious banner glimpsed this fated couple, he would have gnashed his teeth in instant recognition. They were the very rogues who, in ages past, had robbed him of a precious storage pouch!

Upon a cloud of iridescent auspiciousness, they journeyed directly towards the Fire Fiend Prefecture.

The instant their cloud crossed the border of the Fire Fiend Prefecture, within the imperial city of Dragonwave in the Heavenly Fiend Prefecture, the Ancient Fiend Bellow, in the throes of a merging of souls, snapped open his eyes.

A blinding spark of fierce light erupted within them, only to vanish as swiftly as it came.

“They have left their secluded retreat… It seems I must quicken my devouring of the remaining fragments of Ancient Fiend souls!” Bellow murmured, a trace of deeply hidden wariness flickering within his gaze.

The auspicious cloud sailed into the Fire Fiend Prefecture, its passage forcing back the very clouds in the sky. Even the fiendish generals and soldiers within the cities below felt their hearts tremble, daring not to venture forth and investigate.

Before long, the cloud came to rest above the gateway to the Tide Abyss. The cloud slowly dissolved, and the two figures within descended from the heights.

“Intriguing,” the man remarked, a spark of genuine interest in his eyes, as he turned to the woman beside him. “There are wards here, of some ingenuity as well.”

The woman’s eyes sparkled with mirth, her voice a melodious echo, as she replied, “There are few wards that capture your attention, indeed.”