Wang Lin’s visage remained serene, though within his spirit, he felt the echo of Shen Gonghu’s Dao-Soul. The other man’s mastery held a tyrannical resonance akin to his own, yet distinct. Unfamiliar with his life’s tapestry, he could not fully comprehend it. “The Celestial Realm of Thunder – how long until its gates open?” Wang Lin inquired, his tone measured, eyes barely parted.

Shen Gonghu bowed low, replying, “Ten years hence, the Celestial Realm of Thunder shall stir. With the Thunder Cauldron as a key, entry shall be granted.”

Wang Lin pondered, his brow furrowed in thought. The Celestial Realm of Thunder held immense appeal. In the Celestial Realm of Rain, he was once unable to absorb Celestial Jade, yet now possessed the strength to draw its essence in abundance. A pilgrimage to the realm of thunder would surely bring him closer to the pinnacle of cultivation.

“These fragmented Celestial Realms, what limitations do they place upon those who enter, in regards to their cultivation?” Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed with an ethereal light as he turned his gaze towards Shen Gonghu.

Shen Gonghu hesitated, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, “Clearly, Wang Lin’s question stirred a silent storm of conjecture within his heart.”

Wang Lin’s gaze remained steady, his voice unhurried as he spoke. “This old one is not of this Luo Tian Starfield.”

Shen Gonghu’s mind cleared instantly. The truth struck him like a thunderbolt, even as the words left Wang Lin’s lips. Such a lineage, he realized, was the only one fitting for a being of Wang Lin’s stature.

“Esteemed Senior,” Shen Gonghu stammered, “the Celestial Realm of Thunder in the Luo Tian Starfield is not grievously damaged. The limitations imposed confine one to the peak of the late-stage Soul Ascension realm. However, through the secret arts of the Thunder Immortal Palace, cultivators who have reached the second step may enter, so long as their power does not exceed the initial stages of the Void Glimpse realm.”

Wang Lin nodded, inquiring further into the finer details. The Celestial Realm of Thunder seemed much akin to the Celestial Realm of Rain, for in ages past, the four Celestial Realms of Wind, Rain, Thunder, and Lightning served as pathways into the Ancient Immortal Domain.

Having gleaned what he sought, Wang Lin glanced at Shen Gonghu, who seemed to struggle with unspoken words. “Enough,” Wang Lin said plainly, “You may remain here and cultivate, but do not disturb this old one.”

Shen Gonghu hastily affirmed, bowing his head in gratitude. He had sought this place to mend his wounded spirit and cultivate, but now, crippled by injury and diminished power, departure would leave him bereft. Ten years was a fleeting span, and finding a sanctuary as potent as this was nigh impossible. Even the simple act of healing would consume precious time, possibly leaving him ill-prepared when the Celestial Realm of Thunder opened its gates.

Hearing Wang Lin’s acquiescence, a surge of gratitude washed over Shen Gonghu. A man of his cunning would rarely allow himself such sentiment, but his Dao-heart had faltered, his Dao-Soul surrendered. Subconsciously, the mere gaze of Wang Lin had thoroughly subjugated him.

Wang Lin turned away, dismissing Shen Gonghu. He strode towards the deepest reaches of the Thunder Pool.

At first, Shen Gonghu paid little heed, but then he gasped, marveling at Wang Lin’s power. The Thunder within this pool was far from ordinary. Even with his own strength, he could only venture fifty paces before being forced to halt.

Yet now, his gaze followed Wang Lin as he resolutely walked, step by step, to a point near a hundred paces into the pool. There, he seated himself in meditation.

Shen Gonghu inhaled sharply, reverence blossoming in his eyes. He cautiously took ten steps into the pool, but the raw power pressed down, forcing him to halt. He sat cross-legged and began a cycle of controlled breathing, absorbing the thunder to mend himself with the Thunder Essence Art.

His Thunder Beast, too, treaded carefully into the pool, its massive head occasionally glancing towards Wang Lin a hundred paces away, revealing a profound terror. Instinct told it that the fear inspired by Wang Lin’s gaze was many times stronger than that felt by Shen Gonghu. That single look had almost shattered its very soul.

It was a sensation of returning to its origin, never before experienced.

Even now, it was wracked by dread. It was about to lie down when a low growl echoed from afar. Wang Lin’s Silver-Horned Thunder Beast strolled over, its body swaying, and as it passed Shen Gonghu’s beast, it cast a disdainful glare.

Shen Gonghu’s Thunder Beast retreated, fear evident. Its pride had been crushed by Wang Lin’s gaze. Had it not been for this, its pride, nearing the growth of true thunder horns, would never have allowed such submission.

The Silver-Horned Thunder Beast tossed its head jauntily and stepped into the pool, roughly ten paces, before lying down to absorb the potent thunder.

Farther back, the Immortal Guard puppet sat upon a fragment of stone, its eyes opening and closing, emitting a cold light as it watched Shen Gonghu.

One hundred paces was the limit of Wang Lin’s endurance. It was only because he had glimpsed the third step of cultivation and felt his soul ascend that he had even made it this far. Gazing at the thunder, he sensed a strange transformation akin to when he used his Decisive Luo technique.

Relying on this transformation, Wang Lin stepped to the hundred pace mark, but could go no further. He sat and began to draw the thunder into his body, employing the Thunder Essence Art to convert the chaotic energies within into pure spiritual power.

As time passed, thunder rolled around him as bolts of raw energy, like silver serpents, converged and were drawn into his body. Guided by the Thunder Essence Art, impurities were filtered out, leaving pure energy to nourish his spirit, bringing him a sense of comfort.

During his Soul Ascension, the Soul Ascension crystal he received from Zhou Yi had made his spiritual power far more abundant than a normal cultivator. Now, however, so much had been used, especially during his battle with Thunder Taoist, that he was close to losing cultivation.

Spiritual power was hard to replenish for a stage-one cultivator. Without his Thunder Spirit, Wang Lin would have suffered lifelong regrets.

With his spiritual power mended, Wang Lin formed a series of incantations with his hands. A tremor ran across his body and he thrust them forwards, releasing a pulse of thunder. The thunder power within a ten times area increased immediately and it wildly drilled into Wang Lin’s body.

Even he felt a numbing sensation. He inhaled deeply and began refining the energy.

Wang Lin’s actions caused a series of explosions, alarming Shen Gonghu. He inhaled slowly, his eyes opening. As he looked towards Wang Lin, his pupils contracted.
“Truly, fortune favors the bold!” Shen Gonghu breathed, his eyes blazing with fervor. “To withstand such a deluge of lightning at a hundred paces, and remain unfazed… Were I in his position, my very flesh would surely buckle. Even my nascent soul, I fear, would suffer grievous wounds.”

“It seems my own efforts pale in comparison,” he muttered, closing his eyes. He cautiously drew a few more bolts into himself, his body jolting from the sudden influx before he swiftly channeled the energy.

Meanwhile, Wang Lin, enduring tenfold the torrent, invoked the Art of Lightning Tempering. Under its relentless pressure, the primal force within his nascent soul gradually quickened its restoration. Yet, the path to full recovery remained distant. The essence gleaned from the lightning was but a fleeting wisp, further diminished after purging its impurities.

Time flowed like the patient grinding of stones. Two years passed in a blink.

Throughout those years, Wang Lin remained all but still, his intake escalating from tenfold to twentyfold. Now, he resembled nothing so much as an iron golem plunged into a sea of lightning, greedily attracting the crackling energy from all around.

Shen Gonghu, for his part, redoubled his endeavors. His wounds slowly began to mend.

During these years, Wang Lin had observed Shen Gonghu closely. The man also practiced the Art of Lightning Tempering, yet where Wang Lin could only extract a meager thread from each bolt, Shen Gonghu reaped tenfold, or more.

Through careful scrutiny, Wang Lin discerned the key: the volume of primal force within one’s being dictated the extent of the transformation. This intrinsic connection between capacity and conversion was precisely why each realm of the second step in cultivation presented such an immense leap.

Throughout these two years, Wang Lin further imprinted the echoes of the third step within his soul, contemplating them ceaselessly, reaping small insights. Finally, on this day, he rose. Crackling arcs danced around him, discharging into the lightning-wracked pool.

The change did not escape Shen Gonghu’s attention. He opened his eyes, fixated on Wang Lin, his burning desire undiminished, now laced with anticipation.

Wang Lin ignored him, his gaze drawn to the far reaches of the pool. It was vast, even halved in size by the celestial treasure’s influence. Where he stood was merely the fringe. The true heart lay far distant, and naturally, the closer one drew to the center, the more potent the lightning, and the richer its concentration of primal force.

Indeed, a hundred bolts at the periphery held less power than a single strike near the core.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Wang Lin took his first step forward.

His heart was calm, yet tempered with caution. But Shen Gonghu, watching from afar, was consumed with exhilaration. “At last,” he thought, “I shall witness the senior’s great powers! This is an opportunity of a lifetime. I must observe with utmost care; perhaps I can glean some understanding.”

His anticipation was no less intense than when he had broken through to the Illusory Yin realm, and perhaps even greater. He had yearned to train here, not only to heal but also to learn from Wang Lin, to catch even a glimpse of his abilities. Now, after two long years, the moment had arrived. Without hesitation, Shen Gonghu released the lightning that enveloped him, focusing all his attention on Wang Lin’s every move, determined to etch it into his memory.

Even his armored lightning beast lifted its head, its eyes filled with reverence and a glimmer of expectation.

Only Wang Lin’s silver-horned lightning beast remained unmoved. With a flick of its eyelids, it ignored the scene, lying prone and absorbing the chaotic energies as if in slumber.