“The Gray-Robed Chosen of Heaven’s Fortune, intriguing indeed,” Wang Lin muttered, a shadow of cunning flickering at the edge of his lips. He had ensnared Du Jian within the threads of his divine sense, and the man’s words bore the unmistakable ring of truth.

“Master,” Wang Lin breathed, a chill glinting in his eyes, “the secrets you harbor are legion.”

He paused, a tremor of apprehension coursing through him. “Such depths of concealment unsettle the disciple. This Star of Heaven’s Fortune… it can no longer be my sanctuary. To linger here risks not only unveiling my Master’s mysteries, but also being devoured by them!” He drew a sharp breath, resolve hardening within him. He must flee this star with utmost haste!

“Once I emerge from this accursed land of spirits, I shall merge with my true form and depart. The waters of Heaven’s Fortune run too deep, they are not a place for me to tread!” His gaze sharpened as he swept the surroundings, a sigh escaping his lips. “Whether escape is even possible from this forsaken place, remains to be seen.”

Du Jian, having unburdened himself of his most guarded secret, watched Wang Lin with wary eyes. The man’s countenance shifted, betraying the turmoil of contemplation that raged within.

A sigh of relief escaped Du Jian’s lips. His greatest fear had been disbelief, for the tale he had spun was indeed of a bizarre nature. His gaze drifted towards the chasm’s maw, a puzzle knitting his brow.

“Where… where am I?” he whispered, his eyes fixed upon the crack in reality. A tremor of lingering terror ran through him, for the memory of his essence being violently ripped from his flesh was forever seared into his soul.

He turned his gaze upward to the seven celestial blades that hung suspended in the air, each humming with Wang Lin’s spiritual aura, interwoven with crackling lightning.

“This must be Wang Lin’s most secluded sanctuary,” he realized. “A man of such ruthless ambition cannot be left to linger. Alas, my cultivation is wanting. If only… if only I could Ascend!” Du Jian teetered on the precipice of Ascendancy, yet had always shied away from the perilous ordeal, from the ephemeral nature of such a trial.

But now, with the specter of death looming, he gritted his teeth. Though his essence was shackled, he believed he could, by drawing upon the dormant energies of Ascendancy, break free.

“Ascend or perish! To reach Ascendancy is to grasp at a chance of life; to fail is to embrace oblivion. Better to gamble than to await the inevitable!” A spark of fierce determination ignited within his eyes, a sight rarely seen. Yet, as he prepared to unleash his hidden potential, Wang Lin’s icy gaze descended upon him like a frigid rain, extinguishing the flames of resolve.

With a flick of his wrist, the seven celestial blades that hung in the air became streaks of light as they flew into Wang Lin’s waiting hand. Soon after, they vanished into his sack of holding.

“Wang… Wang Lin!” Du Jian stammered, his pupils shrinking.

“I offer you a chance,” Wang Lin stated, his voice devoid of emotion. “Attempt Ascendancy. Should you succeed, I shall bestow upon you a fortune beyond measure!”

Du Jian considered this, his mind racing. He did not inquire about the nature of this promised fortune, for he knew in his heart that Wang Lin would never grant him freedom. After a long pause, he met Wang Lin’s gaze and said, “A gentleman’s word!”

Wang Lin nodded in response.

Du Jian then closed his eyes. Wang Lin’s power far exceeded his own, he could kill him with ease, it was hard to think Wang Lin was not planning something more. A gamble must be made, and as his life hangs in the balance he cant overthink things.

“I gamble once!”

Du Jian inhaled deeply, guiding his spirit, feeling the completeness of his being, and stepping forth. He took that first step! A flow of primal spiritual essence emerged from Du Jian, its intensity growing with each passing moment, easily shattering Wang Lin’s seals upon Du Jian’s imprisoned spirit.

Wang Lin watched intently, a flicker of speculation in his eyes. He was letting Du Jian attempt Ascendancy to increase the likelihood of creating an Immortal Guardian!

Immortal Guardians! Wang Lin had not forgotten the jade scroll’s descriptions. From the moment he had imprisoned Du Jian, he had decided to try and make him a low-grade Immortal Guardian.

Although the chances of success were slim, success would mean gaining an assistant with peak Ascendant-Void strength, somebody who was nearly in the Yin-Yang Realm. That was too good for him to ignore.

The jade slip also spoke of the different magical abilities that only Immortal Guardians could use, abilities that could change the battlefield.

He never would have gone out of his way to catch somebody and make them an Immortal Guardian, but the man held hatred for him, and in Wang Lin’s personality, he must meet retribution.

“If you fail, so be it. If you succeed, I shall grant you a chance, may heaven guide you!”

Du Jian’s attempt at Ascendancy was normal, not like Wang Lin who induced heaven’s wrath. As time went on, Du Jian gained more and more spiritual essence, his spirit left his body and merged.

Time went on, an hour has passed but they had not harmonized. Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed as he realized this.

The combination failed, and the fire of primal Qi backfired on Du Jian, set to destroy him, Wang Lin stepped forward and pulled Du Jian from the fire.

The fire went straight into Wang Lin, going to his mind.

Wang Lin didn’t burn, he enjoyed it.

Wang Lin’s mind moved, lightning came from within it.

At the same time Wang Lin’s mind sucked up the lightning and fire, his body also sucked up the fire on Du Jian, pulling him from the brink.
Du Jian’s nascent soul, once vibrant, now flickered like a dying ember, slowly merging with the meager traces of celestial energy that remained in this desolate place. So much of his spiritual essence had been lost. Even with this forced union, even having achieved the coveted Asking stage, his progress was forever stunted, doomed to languish in the earliest realms unless fortune granted him a miraculous restoration.

Days bled into weeks within the fractured reality of the rift. Finally, the remnants of Du Jian’s soul were bound as one, and a wave of Asking stage power pulsed outward. His spirit, at long last, returned to its mortal vessel. In an instant, Du Jian’s eyes snapped open, reflecting a maelstrom of emotions.

He remembered everything from the perilous ascension. He should have failed, yet someone, *that* someone, had intervened. His mind spun with a thousand thoughts, his heart a battleground of conflicting feelings. At last, a sigh escaped his lips. Though he had achieved the Asking stage, he was but the weakest of its initiates. He was no match for Wang Lin.

“What manner of fate do you intend to bestow upon me?” Du Jian’s words were laced with a complex tapestry of hatred, gratitude, regret, and fear.

“I offer you a path,” Wang Lin replied, his voice a calm counterpoint to the turmoil within Du Jian. “A ritual to forge your flesh, refine your spirit, and with secret techniques, grant you the potential to reach the pinnacle of the Asking stage, to stand with one foot upon the threshold of Illusion and Reality.”

Du Jian’s heart leaped, then sank into bitter resignation. “Such an art, so defying of the natural order, must surely carry a heavy toll. I ask only one thing: Will my mind endure?”

Wang Lin’s gaze was as deep and unknowable as the cosmos itself. “A thousand years hence, should you survive, I will grant you freedom.” The creation of a celestial guardian required absolute submission from the subject, lest the process be irrevocably ruined.

The ancient Celestial Emperor Qing Shuang had possessed many such guardians, each chosen for their unwavering loyalty, a willingness to trade their will for power. Wang Lin, in this moment, echoed the methods of that long-dead emperor.

Du Jian clenched his jaw, his eyes locked on Wang Lin. He nodded slowly, accepting his inevitable fate. To resist meant certain death. This gamble, this dark pact, was his only hope for survival.

He had no choice.

Wang Lin wasted no more words. His hands wove arcane seals, channeling celestial energy that coalesced into a complex glyph. He pressed it upon Du Jian’s brow.

Du Jian shuddered and closed his eyes, utterly still.

Wang Lin’s face tightened with concentration. The creation of a celestial guardian, as detailed in the jade scroll, was fraught with peril. One misstep, one deviation from the ancient ritual, would spell disaster.

Even with flawless execution, success was far from assured. But Wang Lin was desperate. He had to take this chance.

He sought to create a celestial guardian for a reason, for within the scroll lay a secret art, unique to these beings, which offered him a sliver of hope, a potential escape from this accursed place.

“…If it fails, I shall use Yao Xixue as the next test subject!” Wang Lin spat forth a breath of primordial energy, which transformed into countless runes, each settling upon Du Jian’s inert form.

The first step in the process was the forging of flesh, to make the body impervious to harm, resistant to the most potent of weapons. When Wang Lin first read of this in the scroll, his thoughts turned to the ancient gods.

The second step was the dissolution of the spirit, its essence ground into dust, then, through forbidden methods, coaxed to expand and permeate the body. Thus, the vessel would be without a true spirit, yet the spirit would reside within every fiber of its being.

The third step was the withering of the internal organs, draining them of vitality, severing them from the life-giving essence. This would shut down the senses, making the body insensible to pain.

Intelligence would remain, but the will would be broken. The result: a puppet of immense power, devoid of emotion, impervious to suffering, a being that would stand unblinking even as its limbs were torn asunder.

This was the celestial guardian!

Celestial Emperor Qing Shuang’s imitation of the ancient gods, a living weapon wrought from flesh and spirit.