The news of Huan Dong’s demise reached his clan in the blink of an eye. As a prominent family of cultivators dwelling on the homeworld, the murder of their clan’s guard ignited a storm of fury.

The newly returned Patriarch of the Huan Clan, upon hearing the tidings, was consumed by rage. Yet, with a glint in his eye, he quelled the clamor for the immediate annihilation of Ran Yun Star, and instead, hastened the date of the Blood-Swapping Rite.

“The slain guard served Huan Mei,” decreed the Patriarch, “She shall deal with this matter once the rite is complete!” None dared to defy the Patriarch’s word, knowing full well he intended for Huan Mei to establish her authority, though they remained silent.

Thus, it was settled.

“Encircle Ran Yun Star with the Star-Locking Array! From this moment forth, no soul shall escape its grasp! They shall await Huan Mei’s judgment after her transformation.”

As the Huan Clan moved, the very heavens shifted. Beneath the suffocating grip of the Star-Locking Array, Ran Yun Star became a gilded cage. As for Huan Mei, she learned of Huan Dong’s death, yet her countenance remained unchanged, as if he were but a mere insect.

“Ran Yun Star… my trial by fire in the Huan Clan, is it?” she mused, standing by her tower window, gazing at the cerulean sky. “As my master foretold, he shall bestow his power upon me during the Blood-Swapping, sacrificing two centuries of cultivation to elevate me to the peak of the Asking Realm. As for how to transcend into the realm of Yin-Yang and Illusion-Reality, that shall be my own endeavor.”

“With this, the chasm between myself and that one on Vermillion Bird Star widens evermore,” she mused. “If, years hence, I were to encounter him again, wielding the power of a Dao Seeking Stage cultivator, I wonder what thoughts would fill his mind. But to me, he is no different from that insect, Huan Dong.”

Huan Mei smiled, a vision of such beauty that it could steal a man’s breath. A patrol of clan guards passing by her tower froze, their eyes filled with infatuation and fervent devotion – a gaze eerily similar to that of Huan Dong. “The Myriad Illusion Heavenly Demon Path… it beguiles all in the world,” she whispered as the wind swept through her silken hair, which she twirled with jade fingers.

Suddenly, her storage pouch pulsed with an unsettling energy, contained within but radiating an intense malice. Huan Mei lowered her gaze, touched the pouch, and the pulsing subsided, yet the malice within intensified. “Be still. You cannot emerge yet,” she murmured, biting her fingertip and placing it upon the pouch, a flicker of pain crossing her face. Slowly, the pulsing ceased, and the malice was forcibly suppressed.

“Why do you persist in this?” a weathered voice spoke behind her. The figure of the Huan Clan Patriarch materialized, his gaze sweeping over Huan Mei’s pouch, a frown etched on his face.

“I warned you before; this object is too wicked. Touch it not!” Huan Mei remained silent, her head bowed.

“Destroy it at once! Cherish it not. Such actions can corrupt the heart, making the first step into Dao seeking impossible and the passage into Yin-Yang and Illusion-Reality unattainable!” the Patriarch exclaimed.

Huan Mei raised her head, looking at the Patriarch. “Master, I know what I’m doing. Speak no more of it, please…”

The Patriarch gazed at Huan Mei for a long moment, then sighed, “Why, oh why do you persist in this!”

Meanwhile, Wang Lin, propelled by his silver dragon, soared toward the murky expanse of Yunxia Star. It was a world shrouded in a dense, ashen mist, impenetrable to divine sense.

From within the mist emanated roars and growls, warning all who approached to stay away.

The silver dragon carried Wang Lin to the edge of Yunxia Star. With a glint in his eye, Wang Lin reached into his storage pouch and summoned the Seven-Star Sword Array. The blades swirled around him, forming a potent spiral force.

With this protective shield, Wang Lin strode forward, stowing the Star Compass and plunging into the swirling mist. The vortex of blades served as a drill, tearing a path through the oppressive fog.

Yet the mist was relentless, and even with such power, it seemed to close in around Wang Lin, swallowing him whole. Were anyone to pass by, they would never know that within that fog, a figure was rapidly descending.

Wang Lin remained unfazed, the vortex preventing any mist from touching him. But all around him was a grey haze, and his divine sense was choked by the fog. He could only rely on his instincts to guide him.

After what seemed like an eternity, the fog began to thin. Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed, and he accelerated, transforming into a streaking comet as he burst through the mist. The sight that greeted him caused his pupils to contract. The sky was a mass of thick fog, devoid of sunlight, casting the land in eternal darkness. The earth was scarred with fissures, like gaping maws seeking to devour all.

A thick miasma of death permeated the air, not emanating from a single source, but from the very essence of Yunxia Star itself!

From the cracks in the earth, a multitude of rotting tendrils writhed and swayed, making the land appear as if it were covered in decaying hair.

A sense of oppressive dread settled upon the heart.

Low growls and roars echoed throughout Yunxia Star, many emanating from the depths below.

“So this is a fully abandoned cultivation star…” Wang Lin mused, stepping forward and extending his divine sense to locate the golden flame veins. As he flew, he passed by ruins of cities, once vibrant centers of civilization now consumed by decay. The tendrils from below had entwined themselves around the ruins, creating a scene that chilled the blood.
Unseen, Wang Lin soared, his gaze sweeping past countless cities. Then, a chilling stillness fell. The tendrils that writhed upon the ground, moments before a frenzied dance, froze, then vanished into the earth with unnatural speed. A thunderous roar echoed from the horizon, and a crimson cloud painted the darkness as it hurtled towards him.

Upon that burning sky rode a monstrous beast, draconic in form, yet undeniably not dragon. Its serpentine body stretched a thousand fathoms, crowned with a triangular head wreathed in a mane of countless, writhing tendrils. The creature roared, and the very mists of the heavens recoiled before it, as if cleaved by an unseen hand. Wang Lin, his senses overwhelmed, gasped, “Wang Yue!”

The creature was etched in the deepest recesses of the Ancient God Tusi’s memories. Wang Lin inhaled sharply, plunging down towards a fissure in the parched earth.

As he descended, the fragmented memories of Tusi surged within him, and a strange light kindled in Wang Lin’s eyes.

“The Wang Yue is no natural beast, but a parasitic entity born within the Ancient Gods. It feeds upon their ichor, yet cannot escape their living form, often serving as a living weapon.

“When an Ancient God falls, so too does the parasite, save for the rarest of occurrences. Then, and only then, does it burst free, empowered by the God’s essence. The stronger the Ancient God, the more potent the Wang Yue.”

“Tusi’s Wang Yue were long dead,” Wang Lin muttered, “yet here, in this desolate place, one thrives. Could it be… the remnants of an Ancient God? But if that were true, surely it would not have escaped notice. The great cultivators of Luo Tian would never let such a prize slip through their fingers.” He burrowed deeper into the earth, watching the crimson storm pass overhead, the monstrous form of the Wang Yue disappearing into the distance.

Meanwhile, on a humble cultivation star within the Alliance, in the capital of a mortal empire, two maidens clad in vibrant silks descended from the sky. In each of their hands floated a crimson orb, radiating a palpable aura of malice. Hovering above the city, one cried out, “Situ Nan, come forth!”

A muttered curse rose from the city below, and a figure robed in violet flashed into being, fleeing without so much as a glance at the women.

“Situ Nan! The Sect Master has commanded that you be hunted across all the dependent stars of Luan Feng! You cannot escape!”

The man, indeed Situ Nan, snarled in desperation, “Tell that harridan that if she continues to hound me, I’ll carve the memory of her debauchery into ten thousand jade scrolls and scatter them across the entire Cultivation Alliance! A century of chasing me! Does she ever tire?”

“Enough!” The maidens clashed the crimson orbs together. They pulsed, merging into a single, ethereal figure, the shimmering form of a woman, impossibly beautiful and terrifying.

“This time, you will not escape!” The spectral figure stepped forward, her hand raised in a gesture of impossible power. The heavens themselves seemed to press down, the very earth trembled beneath the weight of her will. Sky and earth compressed.

Situ Nan shrieked as if consumed by fire, bursting through the closing net, though the effort cost him dearly. He coughed up a torrent of blood, his face ashen.

“Curse you, woman! I swear, I shall ensure that every cultivator and every mortal in the Alliance witnesses your shame! I shall make you a legend! You have my word!” He spat blood and fled once more.

“Push me too far, and I shall retreat to seclusion! You will all regret this!” His eyes burned with rage. He had resolved to vanish, to meditate until he attained the coveted Peeping Nirvana stage, or not return at all.