The Elder Chief lamented the exorbitant sum of Immortal Jade required, causing Kuei-Lin to gasp. Such vast wealth, rivaling even the ten great Clans of Cultivation, resided within the envoy’s pouch!

“A glimpse reveals the whole,” Wang Lin mused, astonishment etching across his face. “If a mere messenger of the Thunder Immortal Hall possesses such riches, imagine the power of the Hall itself!”

He pondered for a long while, his eyes gleaming with newfound resolve. “The Thunder Immortal Hall…” he breathed, and with a swirl of his robes, vanished from the cave, his Immortal Guard automaton close behind.

Ascending to the eastern skies above the desolate planet, Wang Lin thrust his hand downwards. A thunderous roar echoed as the very earth trembled. Within a ten-thousand-mile radius, an unseen force pressed down, grinding the landscape flat.

The land became as smooth as glass, every protruding stone reduced to dust, scattered by fierce winds that spiraled outwards. Dust billowed, creating a hazy shroud.

Wang Lin descended, settling into a meditative posture at the center of the flattened expanse. He unfurled his storage pouch, releasing a torrent of Immortal Jade, harvested from the fallen Three Clans. The gems spread out, forming a glittering circle around him.

He summoned forth the Soul Devouring Banner, its trapped spirits coalescing into three spectral guardians, hovering in the heavens. The Immortal Guard stood vigilant, poised to obliterate any who dared approach.

With a deep breath, Wang Lin formed a series of incantations, his eyes closing.

A surge of Immortal Qi erupted, forming a vortex that relentlessly drew towards Wang Lin.

Soon, the Jade on the ground shattered, instantly replaced by fresh stones from his inexhaustible pouch. The cycle continued, a perpetual feast for his growing power.

Wang Lin’s Immortal energy surged, his cultivation ascending to new heights.

Meanwhile, in the far-off Alliance Star System, a barren world, smaller even than Suzaku Star, lay devoid of life.

Three streaks of sword-light sliced through the void, led by a woman adorned in gossamer lavender silks. Her beauty was both delicate and regal, her porcelain face adorned with a subtle plum blossom makeup. Her eyes sparkled with captivating allure, while an ethereal fragrance trailed in her wake.

Upon her brow, iridescent butterfly-shaped ornaments shimmered, enhancing her otherworldly charm.

Should Wang Lin behold her, he would recognize her instantly: Zi Xin, once of Suzaku Star, who had devoured the essence of Qian Feng and defected from the Five Planets Heavenly Water Palace!

Escaping the wrath of the Heavenly Water Palace, she had been rescued by Xue Zu, father of Yao Xixue, and now served as his concubine.

Two crimson-robed figures trailed behind her, their eyes dim and lifeless, their minds enslaved. These were Xue Nu, Blood Slaves crafted by Xue Zu, each wielding the power of the Asking Realm.

Zi Xin moved with incredible speed, soon beholding the insignificant planet looming before them.

“Is this the world you spoke of?” Zi Xin inquired, her voice like a melodious chime.

One of the Blood Slaves responded with subservience, “Mistress, this is the place.”

Zi Xin’s gaze hardened as she fixed upon the distant planet. Three months prior, a Blood Slave had reported strange occurrences within, as if the world were slowly dying.

This world lay within Xue Zu’s domain. Since his return from the Land of Demon Spirits, Xue Zu had been cloaked in shadow, departing shortly after on a journey to a destination unknown.

After a moment of contemplation, Zi Xin propelled herself forward, leading her two Blood Slaves towards the desolate planet.

The world was barren, lifeless, and scarred with deep fissures. As Zi Xin and her entourage arrived, a cacophony of thunderous cracks echoed around them.

The fissures widened, as if the very planet was breaking apart. Distant peaks crumbled, sending plumes of dust skyward.

A once-mighty riverbed, hundreds of feet wide, lay dry and cracked.

“Though desolate, this planet was not always so broken,” one of the Blood Slaves murmured. “In the past four centuries, it has aged as if experiencing an entire lifetime. The last few decades have been especially drastic.”

Zi Xin’s eyes flashed with intrigue. She unleashed her Divine Sense, seeking to probe the depths of the planet. But as her consciousness brushed against the surface,

A chilling voice, laced with infinite bloodlust, echoed, reverberating with earth-shattering force.

“Begone!” The voice was more deafening than a thunderclap, and possessed a power that forced the very heavens to darken. It was accompanied by a violent shockwave, causing the fissures in the ground to deepen and cracks to appear in the sky.

The voice, echoing with layers of amplified power, roared once more.

“BEGONE!!!”

The planet trembled on the brink of annihilation. Mountains crumbled, the earth caved in, and the sky tore open, unleashing howling winds that turned the world into a vision of hell.

As the voice reached Zi Xin’s ears, her face drained of all color. Her Blood Slaves stumbled, coughing up torrents of blood.

Terror seized Zi Xin. Without a second thought, she bowed deeply and spoke, “This one was ignorant of a senior’s retreat. Forgive our intrusion, we shall depart at once.”

With a shiver running down her spine, she turned and fled, her Blood Slaves scrambling to follow. In the void of space, Zi Xin glanced back at the dying planet, her heart pounding in her chest, and fled with all haste.
No sooner had they departed than the little planet groaned, a sound that escalated into a deafening roar. Moments later, its entire surface fractured, revealing a colossal sphere crisscrossed by a web of yawning fissures. With each passing heartbeat, the cracks deepened and widened, until, in a cataclysmic instant, the world shattered.

The celestial reverberations of the planet’s demise echoed across the void, unleashing a wave of invisible force that surged outwards with terrifying speed. The trio of fleeing figures, led by the sorceress Zixin, felt their faces blanch as they sensed the approaching doom.

“Blood Thralls,” Zixin shrieked, her voice laced with desperation. “Sacrifice yourselves! Detonate your souls to halt its advance!”

Without hesitation, the two hulking Blood Thralls at her back turned and charged towards the encroaching wave. With agonizing roars, they unleashed the totality of their life essence, their spirits exploding in blinding flares of crimson energy.

Buying precious moments, Zixin rummaged within her satchel, retrieving a jade talisman bathed in crimson light. This was a gift from the Blood Ancestor, a key to instantaneous translocation, allowing her to return to the Blood Star from any corner of the cosmos. Yet, its activation demanded a precarious moment of unwavering focus.

The world crumbled into stardust, dissipating into the cosmic winds. When the last mote of planetary dust had vanished, a solitary figure stood defiant at the epicenter of destruction. His torso was bare, his skin weathered and rugged, as if etched with ancient runes. Around him, the air shimmered with an unnerving stillness.

This was Wang Lin, in his true form!

His brow bore four luminous star-points arranged in a circle, swirling with an ethereal glow. One amongst them, however, flickered weakly, its light almost extinguished.

His expression was a mask of glacial indifference, mirroring the eyes that held the accumulated cold of countless ages. A palpable aura of utter desolation emanated from his very being. The shockwaves of the planet’s destruction washed over him, yet they seemed to dissipate harmlessly, unable to penetrate his resilient flesh. Wang Lin cast his gaze into the distant, unfathomable void.

“This spent world offers nothing more,” he mused, his voice a low, resonant rumble. He eyed the remnants of the shattered planet, slowly dispersing into the void, and extended his hand, palm downwards.

The retreating debris faltered, arrested by an unseen force. A fleeting aura of antiquity and lost ages shimmered into existence, only to quickly fade into nothingness.

“My mastery of this extraction technique requires further refinement,” Wang Lin murmured. With a single stride, he stepped forward, his formidable physique rendering celestial compasses and mystical instruments utterly superfluous. He needed no aid to traverse the star-strewn seas.

“Alas, I have yet to discover the essence of a fully mature Ancient God,” he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. “Only then can I truly ascend to the fourth star. Perhaps, I must once more journey to the Vermillion Bird Star… I wonder, when will that Torsen break free?” With that, Wang Lin vanished into the inky blackness, his figure fading into the tapestry of stars.

Months later, on a secluded, untamed planet, Wang Lin chose his sanctuary. He merged with its essence, burrowing deep into its heart, until he found himself in silent meditation, eyes shut tight. This world was chosen for the natural, protective layers of celestial lightning that cloaked it.

Meanwhile, on the Vermillion Bird Star, chaos reigned in the Sea of Demonic Cultivation.

The oppressive mists that once shrouded the Sea had long since dissipated, revealing a vast, sunken basin of desolation. Deep within its heart lay the Shattered Star Labyrinth, a place of forbidden secrets and lurking terrors. Anyone who dared to venture near would vanish without a trace, solidifying its reputation as an accursed ground.

Within the Labyrinth lay the Ancient God’s domain.

There, in a sea of crimson blood, countless cultivators sat in meditation, their strength slowly growing as the sanguine tides seeped into their bones. The ancient cultivators among them were growing particularly powerful.

On the grandest of the monoliths, a man with hair like burning embers sat cross-legged. An aura of concentrated power emanated from him, potent enough to make any creature tremble in fear.

Beside him lay a rusted, crude blade, its surface stained with patches of dried, brownish-black blood.

A scraping sound echoed through the domain as the red-haired man, his features obscured by his fiery mane, scratched at the stone floor with his sharpened fingernails, carving the characters: “王林 (Wang Lin)”.

A closer inspection would reveal that the entire monolith was already covered with the same two characters, repeated countless times.

“Wang Lin…” The red-haired man rasped, his voice a guttural echo that reverberated through the sea of blood. Every cultivator present shuddered at the sound.

For countless years, the name “Wang Lin” had been etched into their very souls…

“Wang Lin… I shall soon be free…”

Three months later, a figure emerged from the Ancient God’s domain within the Shattered Star Labyrinth. Perched upon his shoulder was a monkey with eyes that blazed with crimson intensity. Together, they descended from the Demon Cultivation Sea.

This was not Torsen himself, but an emissary sent in his stead.

His eyes burned with bitter hatred. If Wang Lin were present, he would instantly recognize him: It was Tianmo Sanren, the once-deceased demon cultivator!

If not for Wang Lin, the mantle of memory and power would have been his. As the mentor of the Six Desires Demon Lord, his plans spanning millennia had been shattered by this very Wang Lin. His hatred for him burned with an intensity that rivaled even Torsen’s.

“The Lower Realm of Lightning…” Tianmo Sanren muttered, his form flickering as he left the Vermillion Bird Star behind.

On the Vermillion Bird Star, atop the towering Vermillion Bird Mountain, stood a woman named Zhou Ruo.

Her long hair danced in the wind, and her white robes fluttered around her. She looked even more mature than she had in their younger years. Behind her, a white tiger with lazy eyes was lounging on the ground.

In her hand, she held an ancient, unassuming storage sack, its fabric worn by centuries of use.

“Uncle, the storage sack you left me… now, I can finally open it…” Zhou Ruo whispered softly. She lowered her gaze and poured her consciousness into the sack.

The inside was empty… save for a single ray of white light that flashed and descended upon Zhou Ruo’s brow. She staggered, the sack falling from her grip. The wind carried it far away.

The white tiger roared, leaping to its feet. It did not understand what was happening to her.

The light faded, and within Zhou Ruo’s mind, a sealed memory began to unravel. All that had been lost resurfaced before her eyes.
For nineteen years, I have watched this child blossom, each day a reflection of my own daughter. Brother Wang, my heart aches to see Wan’er so naive, to know she might bring you sorrow.”

A long silence followed, and tears streamed down Zhou Ru’s face. Head bowed, she huddled on the cold stone floor, embracing her knees as the tears flowed unchecked.

“…Little White… so it is true. The esteemed Uncle never desired my presence.”

Meanwhile, Wang Lin, lost in the throes of power, devoured the celestial energy with ravenous hunger. Around him, a swirling halo of shattered jade formed as countless Immortal Jades crumbled to dust, their essence fueling his ascent.

The path from the mid-stage of Soul Transformation to the late stage demanded a quantity of Immortal Jade far surpassing the journey from the initial phase to the mid-stage. Yet, Wang Lin possessed a vast store within his storage pouch, seemingly sufficient for the task.

However, since the metamorphosis of his Primordial Spirit, Wang Lin discovered it was far different from before. The consumption of celestial power was like feeding an insatiable abyss.

Nearly half a year had passed. Mountains of Immortal Jade vanished each day, yet his Primordial Spirit remained far from sated.

Time trickled by, and the hunger only intensified. Another half-year waned, and then, on this fateful day, Wang Lin’s eyes snapped open, crackling with celestial lightning. A palpable aura, a force that seemed to tremble the very earth, erupted from his being.

He rose, his expression serene. Gazing upon the heavens, he strode forth.

“Soul Transformation, Late Stage!”

(This chapter’s release was delayed, wrought from numerous revisions, and even now, I remain unsatisfied. The third chapter, Er Gen continues to craft, though at his pace, it may be quite some time before it appears. I beg your patience; I will never leave you wanting!

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